


Blessed Are Those Who Hunger And Thirst

by jumpstarts



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-17 08:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpstarts/pseuds/jumpstarts
Summary: The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.





	1. .01

**Author's Note:**

> something that's written instead of sleeping @ normal human hours. future warning for dub-con/non-con content, will update tags when that happen.

 

The alley reeks of decay and questionable decisions, painted in shadows but Changmin knows all the right turns, the right faces and he finds the right door in a matter of minutes. Heart-thumping beats filter through bullet holes on posters-wrapped wood, strangled past recognition of a melody until all he can hear is mindless screaming. The usual promise of a night of reckless fun, after all the stress and pressure of midterms. His first option had been a six-pack and maybe inviting Victoria over for a tumble in the sheets, but a call from his seniors (and Kyuhyun, that fucking traitor) jerks him out of the familiar comfort of their shared room.

Changmin closes his eyes and wrinkles his nose at the tangible taste of breakdown in the air.

“I thought you couldn't make it.”

Changmin shrugs at Heechul, all smoked smiles and polished leather. “I'm here now, aren't I?" He steals Kyuhyun's drink, something green and possibly vile and takes a sip. Scratch the possibly; definitely vile. "What the fuck is this shit.”

“Don't know.” Kyuhyun gestures at the half-hidden bar behind writhing bodies. “New bartender. Looks real pretty, so probably lacking in the brain department.”

Changmin cranes his neck to get a better view but all he sees is a blur of white over neon highlights. He shoves the empty shot glass at Kyuhyun. “I'm getting the next round.”

Heechul raises an eyebrow, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Just the round?”

Changmin bares his teeth. Heechul's laugh is swallowed by more screams but Changmin reads lips enough to understand encouragement. Not that he needs any. Changmin slides through the mass, allows foreign hands and body parts to rub against him because he's generous and he likes being appreciated. It takes too long to escape harlem and Changmin breathes in relief once he reaches the barricade of bottles and guests in various stages of drunken stupor.

“Can I get you anything?”

The guy shouldn't be much older than Changmin. Honey blonde hair, small face and a smile that can rival the Aurora Borealis. Changmin plants an elbow on the bar top, narrows his eyes as he gives the guy a slow once-over. It's a move Kyuhyun christens ‘ _the Shim_ _mating call_ ' and it hasn't failed Changmin yet. “You’re new."

An eyebrow quirks, the corner of the bartender's mouth twitches. He doesn’t seem perturbed by the obvious come-on and picks up another glass to clean. “Covering for a friend.”

“Huh.” Explains why Changmin has never him before and he knows practically everyone in this watering hole. “You’re not from around here?”

“Not really.”

Someone from the other side of the bar flags him down and the bartender abandons Changmin in favour of actually doing his job. It gives Changmin the opportunity to appreciate the stretch of denim over his ass, especially when he bends over to rummage for something under the bar. He comes back after a few minutes, a hint of surprise marring his grin when he realises Changmin is still there.

“Enjoyed the show?”

Changmin likes knowing they’re on the same wavelength. It makes this entire exchange so much easier when they’ve agreed on its currency. “Changmin. You have a name?”

He licks his lips and Changmin follows the swipe of tongue, feels his dick trying to give the (obviously calculated) move a standing ovation. “Yunho. Are you here alone?”

“Nah. I’m with friends.” Changmin cocks a thumb at Kyuhyun's general direction. Heechul notices and flips them off with a wide grin. There are a few more bodies around the table and Changmin recognises Siwon’s distinctive silhouette squeezed right between Donghae and Hyukjae. “But I don’t mind ditching them for… ah, something better. What time do you get off?”

Yunho tilts his head, as if to consider the question. He reaches back to unknot the apron around his hips after a few seconds. “Boa, I’m taking that break now!”

A petite girl Changmin remembers as one of their usual bartenders sticks her head out from somewhere behind bar. Her eyes travel from Yunho to Changmin, brows creased into a frown once understanding dawns in them. She turns to Yunho and seems to communicate her displeasure through a series of gestures and maybe telepathic messages, before exhaling noisily when Yunho just shrugs. 

Changmin smirks in triumph as Yunho throws his apron at the girl, before he rounds the corner to head straight for the attached lavatory. He follows quickly, doesn’t give a shit if he’s being obvious because it’s not like anyone would notice. The toilet is a bit of a squeeze with both of them inside, the lone porcelain throne gleaming bone-white under the yellow light overhead. Changmin locks the door and watches Yunho checks himself on the mirror, long fingers brushing his hair back and behind an ear. Changmin presses up behind him and licks at the arch of his neck, tasting sweat and anticipation.

“We’ve got maybe fifteen minutes before Boa gets truly pissed off and fires me,” Yunho says, pushing back against Changmin. He turns around so that their faces are inches apart, the heat in his eyes finding an answering cry in Changmin’s veins. “Think you can manage?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Yunho grins, eyes crinkling into half-moons. “Maybe.”

“Well then. Challenge’s accepted.”

Changmin drops to his knees and presses his palms over Yunho’s thighs, spreading them for better access. There are fingers in his hair, sifting through and rubbing at his scalp almost gently. He unzips and yanks Yunho’s jeans down to his knees, leaving angry red lines over tanned skin in his impatience. Yunho’s wearing briefs, fabric clinging to the curves of his thighs and burgeoning dick. Changmin takes a moment to appreciate the girth of it, mouths at the outline until the fabric is saliva-soaked. Yunho makes an impatient noise and Changmin grins, hooks his thumb over briefs before pulling them down.

The next second, he swallows Yunho down without much preamble.

Yunho is hot and heavy on his tongue, fattening even further as Changmin hollows his cheeks and sucks in earnest. The fingers in his hair starts tugging, just this side of painful and Yunho curses softly, breath hitching. His teeth scrape along Yunho’s dick where his tongue had lapped seconds ago and when Changmin bites down, Yunho jerks forward with a hoarse cry. Stuffs himself so far down Changmin’s throat that he nearly gags. Changmin curls his hands on the sharp cut of Yunho’s hipbones and shoves him back, uses his bulk to keep Yunho pinned in place as he bites down again.

Yunho’s keening wail when he comes makes Changmin’s dick jumps, pressing urgently against his zipper.

Fucking A. Nothing’s sweeter than someone getting off on the brand of pain Changmin’s all too happy to dish out. It’s not often that he gets to play his favourite game and Yunho’s hitting all his buttons all at once. Changmin swallows and drags the back of one hand across his mouth. He gets off his knees and finds himself yanked towards Yunho, who crushes their mouths in a harsh kiss that tastes like blood and come. Changmin grounds against him, tight and painful, so hard that he feels seconds away from imploding. He pushes Yunho back, eyes wild and ringed with filthy promises as he parks his ass on the toilet seat.

Changmin gets his own fly undone to relief the pressure and sticks a hand down his briefs, finger curled around the curve of his dick. He strokes himself languidly. “Well? Are you waiting for an invitation or what?” Yunho snorts, steps out of his jeans and grabs a condom from one of the pockets. Changmin raises an eyebrow. “You do this often, _Yunho-sshi_?”

Yunho wets his lips again but doesn’t offer any answer, hair falling into his eyes as he sits astride Changmin’s splayed thighs. There’s a high pink flush along his cheeks and his eyes are flecked with gold. Changmin grabs the back of Yunho’s neck with his free hand, thumb catching on the soft underside of that sharp jawline and he presses deep, relishes the full body shudder that gets him. Yunho fumbles with the condom wrapper, finally rips it open and rolls it over Changmin’s dick after he bats the hand away. He squeezes a small amount of lube from wrapper onto Changmin’s fingers and leans closer, mouth brushing Changmin’s ear.

His breath is scalding hot.

“Two should be enough.”

The noise that rumbles from Changmin’s throat is not even human as he finds the tight, puckered hole and shoves a finger inside. He forgoes being gentle and from the way Yunho’s entire body jerks at the sudden intrusion, he doesn’t think Yunho mind. He adds the second finger after too little time and the drag is becoming a bit dry, not enough lube to make it easier. He coaxes Yunho’s legs further apart, drags one hand to smooth over the skin at the base of Yunho’s spine as Yunho shakes and shudders and makes tiny, aborted noises with each pump of his fingers. It must’ve hurt, at least a bit, but Yunho’s bucking back at Changmin even before that minimal preparation is done.

“C’mon, time’s running out, _Changmin-sshi_.”

Changmin pulls his fingers out and wraps them around his dick to slather whatever left of the lube, watches with hungry, fascinated eyes as Yunho lowers himself slowly. Changmin’s hip snaps up once the head’s in, fucks his dick inside in jerky, rough thrusts that make Yunho slump forward and sob into his shoulder even before Changmin is all the way in. He’s big, Changmin knows that, and he feels a surge of triumph once he’s fully seated, all too aware of the wet gasps half muffled by his shirt. Yunho’s hands claw at his chest when Changmin grabs his waist, urges him to move because Changmin feels like imploding.

Yunho’s too tight and too hot and it’d be a shame if Changmin comes too soon.

Yunho eventually gets on with the program, uses his hands on Changmin’s shoulders as leverage as he starts riding Changmin like it’s a fucking race. His head is thrown back, the long column of his neck glistening with sweat as he bounces on Changmin’s lap. The slap of his balls into the curve of flesh, sounds slick and dirty and intimate inside the toilet stall make him feel claustrophobic. Make Changmin wish that he’d brought Yunho back to his room instead, where he can take his time and play with Yunho for as long as he wants. He grinds up, fucks his dick deeper and drives breathy grunts out of Yunho, finds Yunho’s dick and starts jacking him off roughly.

“ _Fuck, fuck fuck—_ I’m close—”

Changmin’s not going to last long either and Yunho cries out as Changmin fucks him harder and faster, the grip on Yunho’s dick tightening. He wants to make sure Yunho remembers this, so that maybe the next time any jerkoff that’s goddamned blessed to fuck Yunho in this same toilet won’t measure up to Changmin. A twist of his wrist, nails digging into the weeping head of Yunho’s dick and he’s coming, thick ribbons caught in the palm of Changmin’s hand. Changmin chases his own completion, finds it several thrusts after and for that few seconds, everything whites out, nerves singed straight into oblivion. He empties himself into the condom, nails digging into Yunho’s ass and a long groan wrenched from his throat. It’s been a while since he last had an orgasm like that and he climbs down slowly, chest heaving and full of something that feels disturbingly like affection when Yunho looks at him from underneath sweat-tipped lashes.

“Good?”

“Excellent service.” Yunho laughs, the sound warm and molasses-thick. He lifts himself up and off, nose wrinkling when Changmin brings a come-covered hand to his mouth. He cleans it up though, kitten licks until their breathing evens out. He slips off Changmin’s lap, stumbles for a bit before he gains his footing and drags his underwear and jeans up. It’s a good thing the tiled floor’s dry. Changmin rolls off the condom and ties it up, tosses it into the bin before tucking his dick back in. Yunho has moved to the sink to wash his hands and face, makes himself look less wrecked and freshly fucked. “Remind me to tip you extra.”

“I’m sure Boa would appreciate that.”

Changmin goes to stand behind Yunho, hands coming around the other guy to get under the running tap. He finds that he likes what little height difference they have – Yunho’s reflection grins back at him. “Is she your pimp?”

“I don’t think you can afford me if I'm really in the business.” Yunho winks and nudges Changmin’s arm out of the way. He pauses, before leaning in to press a kiss against Changmin’s cheek. It’s oddly chaste, given what they’ve just done. “See you around, Changmin-sshi.”

Changmin finishes washing his hands and fixing his hair, makes sure his fly is done up before he goes out into the world again. There’s no one immediately outside the toilet, which is a small blessing, and he catches sight of Yunho behind the bar. He has his back to the crowd and Changmin, seems to be laughing at something Boa says as her hands arches out to punctuate whatever point she’s trying to make. One of them smacks Yunho’s ass and Changmin nearly laughs at the way Yunho flinch, his full lips pursed into a pout. Changmin remembers the way those lips feel against his and he shakes his head, isn’t in the habit of attaching significance to quick fucks in dubious places.

It’s not the first time he’d done it, not gonna be the last. 

“Had fun?” Heechul sneers at him, sprawled out in an obscene tangle of liquid-lazy limbs, once Changmin finds his way back to the group. The music blasted from the speakers is still loudly offensive and Changmin’s feeling a lot more inclined to just call it a night. “It sounded like a bad porno inside that toilet.”

Changmin kicks Kyuhyun’s legs off the table and flops into the empty space besides Siwon. “You’re welcome for feeding your voyeuristic tendency, hyung.”

“Hey, I was just trying to piss.” Heechul grins with all teeth, undeterred. “Was it the bartender?”

Changmin snags a bottle of beer and takes a deep drag, sinking deeper into the booth’s smooth upholstery. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Siwon drapes an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. His eyes are fixed on the bar even if Changmin’s pretty sure none of them can see shit through the crazy strobe lights. “Is he any good?”

It’s their usual banter, especially after one of them gets laid with someone who’s not in their extensive circle, but there’s an unpleasant churning in his stomach that makes Changmin reluctant to spill the details like he’s done so many times in the past. Siwon’s expecting an answer and Heechul’s looking at him with that annoying omniscient gleam in his eyes that never fails to piss Changmin off, so he ends up hitching his shoulders into an exaggerated shrug.

“I’d give it a four,” he says, feels the lie sticking to his throat and sends a quick mental apology to Yunho and his magnificent ass for the blasphemy he’s about to commit. He takes another sip of beer and makes sure to avoid Heechul’s eyes when he adds, “Wasn’t tight enough. Probably fucks every guy who comes his way.”

“Yeah?” Changmin can almost hear Siwon frowning and resists the urge to snap at him. “You sure it’s not because your dick’s too small?”

“That’s not what your mum said when I got her bent over my study table last night, hyung.”

Siwon lunges at him and Changmin scrambles over Kyuhyun’s lap to escape, knows that he’s gonna go home with some very not fun bruises at the end of the night for that comment, but at least he’s managed to steer the discussion away from Yunho. As he shoves Donghae out of the way and narrowly dodges a swipe from Siwon’s freakishly long arm, he could’ve sworn that he sees Yunho looking towards him in the middle of all that chaos. Changmin pauses to squint, which is a terrible decision because it provides enough time for Siwon to catch up to him.

 _Fuck_.

 


	2. .02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can't believe i'm actually updating a lot quicker than i first expected. woo hoo, i guess? also heenim/yundol friendship is lit af i love them sfm.

 

Changmin doesn’t really think about Yunho for weeks, too busy catching up with the rest of his course materials and sending threatening text messages to his group members just to make sure they do their respective parts before each deadline. Some of those fuckers can be unreliable and Changmin isn’t about to drop a grade just to play nice. He goes out to that same bar a couple of times afterwards, but he’s never seen Yunho around and from the look on Boa’s face when he tries asking in a singular instance, he’s better off shoving an arm into a wood chipper than to expect an answer.

It’s as if she’s his fucking keeper, like the Sphinx. Only tinier and angrier and with better hair.

Yunho’s eventually relegated to jack off material, plays a starring role during Changmin’s personal downtime and it’s a testament to how much Changmin remembers from their dirty fuck in the toilet for him to pull up something new every single time he has his fingers curled around the length of his dick. The way Yunho arched into him, how tight and strung up he was as Changmin split him open, taking too much without actually breaking. Yunho would’ve looked so, so good splayed out on his bed, as Changmin brings him to that razorsharp edge of pleasure over and over again without any release. He would’ve begged so prettily.

Changmin is jolted out of one particularly nice daydream of fucking Yunho in his room when Kyuhyun sticks his head inside without the courtesy of a knock. It’s a good thing Changmin doesn’t have his dick hanging out because what the fuck is privacy when he has this asshole as best friend and roommate. “Heechul-hyung’s buying us lunch. You coming?”

It’s a moot question. They both know Changmin has never refused food, especially when it’s free. He closes the module he’s supposed to be reading and stretches, working out the kinks in his back. Breakfast was three hours ago and it’s about time to refuel anyway. “What’s the occasion?”

Kyuhyun shrugs. “Who the hell knows.”

Which is a valid response, considering Heechul’s quicksilver moods. Changmin grabs a sweater and a snapback, jams it over his head because he’s too lazy to fix his hair. They make their way to the small food court squeezed between the quad and the Engineering building, easily find Heechul and the rest of the gang from the trail of boisterous laughter that follows their frequent get-together. Changmin is about to raise his hand in greeting, but freezes once he notices the guy sitting right next to Heechul.

It’s Yunho. All long limbs and wide smiles and dark, mischievous eyes. In the flesh.

 _What the fuck_.

He looks slightly different from the mental picture Changmin has of him, made up of cleaner lines and fairer skin that must’ve been obscured by the poor lighting in the bar. His hair is still blonde, a darker shade with highlights and Changmin remembers running his fingers through them, how Yunho keened when he tugged none too gently. Changmin has to remind himself that it’s inappropriate to pop a boner in public and edges closer, trying to wrap his mind around the scene laid out before him and wondering if this is not some kind of a hallucination caused by sleep deprivation. Heechul’s head is pillowed on Yunho’s shoulder and they’re listening to Siwon, probably a joke because all of them burst into more laughter at the end.

That’s when Yunho’s eyes flicker to meet Changmin’s.

Yunho startles for a half-second, but catches himself in time as Heechul yells at both of them for being late. Kyuhyun doles out an excuse and Changmin chooses a seat right across Yunho, pretends that the crackle of electricity climbing over his spine isn’t caused by the anticipation of something hot and dirty. Heechul makes the round of introduction and Yunho simply nods when it comes to Changmin. He takes it as a sign that they’re supposed to be strangers first and that’s fine with him. If that’s the game Yunho wants to play, Changmin isn’t going to spoil his fun.

Siwon is the one who puts forth the question he wants to ask. Changmin doesn’t like the way he looks at Yunho and chews extra hard to stop himself from saying anything dumb. Like ‘ _back off, hyung, I saw him first_ ’. “How come you haven’t hung out with us before?”

“I transferred here a few months back when I changed majors and didn’t really have time to spare,” Yunho says. He slings an arm over Heechul’s shoulder, grinning. “Good thing Heechullie’s around.”

“What were you doing before?”

“Pre-Law.”

Hyukjae whistles, eyes going wide. “Sounds tough, bro. Why’d you change?”

Yunho’s eyes shutter, but it’s so minuscule that Changmin doubts anyone would’ve noticed if they aren’t looking as closely as he is. Yunho shrugs it off, although the corners of Heechul’s mouth twitch downwards. “Yeah, I had second thoughts, you know how it is.”

“C’mon, Yundol!” Heechul straightens with a flourish and paws at Yunho to get to his feet. Yunho places his phone on the table before he’s dragged away, too busy laughing to notice Changmin’s calculating look. “I want ice cream!”

Changmin palms the phone when he knows nobody’s looking and swipes at the lockscreen underneath the table. He feels like a creep, but it’s a good thing he doesn’t usually listen to his conscience because it makes committing petty crimes like this a lot easier. Yunho’s phone doesn’t have any password, which is downright stupid, and his wallpaper is a picture of him with another guy, obligatory matching peace signs against a background of weather-beaten crags and blue sky. It must’ve been taken on the peak of a mountain somewhere and Changmin frowns at the way they’re both squished together in the picture.

“What’s with your face?” Kyuhyun asks, the words half-muffled through a mouthful of tteokbokki. He’s soon distracted by Shindong, who’s ploughing through a container of breakfast kimbap. “Yah, hyung! I want that too!”

It reminds Changmin that he doesn’t have much time before its owner returns, so he dials his number from Yunho’s phone and hangs up once he feels his phone vibrate. Erasing that call from the log, he surreptitiously places the phone back to where it belongs and grapples Kyuhyun for the rest of the tteokbokki. It doesn’t take long for Yunho and Heechul to come back with handfuls of ice cream cones, some of them already dripping onto the concrete. They distribute the cones and Changmin lets his hand lingers on Yunho’s when it’s his turn, takes that moment to exchange heated glances that promises something more.

Yunho turns red and breaks eye contact when Heechul grabs at him.

Changmin bites into the ice cream to smother a triumphant grin. There’s that acknowledgement he’s waiting for and he knows he’s going to enjoy the rest of the day a hell lot better now. He doesn’t get any more chance to tease Yunho since the other guy’s monopolised by the rest of gang, answering more questions than one usually gets during blind dates. After that early lunch, Changmin goes back to his room and types up the remainder of his assignment, sending off more threats via text. Research consumes the better part of his afternoon, highlighting passages in his reading text for the next class as he tries to figure out how many hours he’d have to wait until he can make use of the phone number he’s stolen.

Kyuhyun announces that he’s going out for a date and once his roommate is gone in a thick mist of perfume, Changmin decides to give himself a break.

He pulls up Yunho’s number and hits the call button.  

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Yunho-sshi.” Changmin tilts back on his chair, eyeing the time on his laptop. Four-thirty. Too early for dinner. “I hope I’m not disturbing?”

A rustle of clothes, something creaks in the background. He sounds like he’s in bed and Changmin’s dick perks up in interest. “ _Ah, not really. I’m sorry, but who’s this?_ ”

“Ouch. And here I thought we’ve shared a magical evening together.”

“ _… Changmin?_ ” There’s a considerable pause, like Yunho’s expecting a denial. None comes, of course. “ _Where’d you get my number?_ ”

“I work in mysterious ways.” He’s already reaching out for a change of clothes when he says, “Text me your address. I’m coming over.”

“ _Are you asking or telling?_ ”

“You’re not saying ‘no’ though,” Changmin points out.

Yunho laughs, low and warm, and hangs up. There’s a message sitting in his inbox seconds later and it takes Changmin twenty minutes to find Yunho’s apartment. It’s not too far from the main campus and it’s one of those old buildings that are popular with students due to how cheap it is compared to other options – Changmin’s pretty sure some of his course mates live there and he prays he won’t bump into any of them today. He climbs the stairs in twos, indulging in the unfamiliar thrill of secrets. Doors lined the hallway, all identical except for the numbers etched into the wood. He finds the one he’s looking for and knocks, fixes his shirt as he waits for Yunho.

Who opens the door in an oversized sweater and shorts, wearing a grin that mirrors Changmin’s own.

“That’s quick,” Yunho says, gesturing him inside. The sweater slips over his shoulder and Changmin feels his stomach hollowing out. “Wasn’t expecting you for at least another hour.”

“I don’t like wasting time.”

The inside of the apartment is sparsely furnished, with brown boxes stacked in a haphazard pile near the entrance. It seems like Yunho hasn’t finished unpacking and judging from the amount of clothes piled onto the couch, he’s not as well-versed in housekeeping as he is at fucking strangers in dingy toilets.  

“You need to clean this place up.” Changmin toes at an empty pizza box and wrinkles his nose. “Do you even know what a vacuum looks like?”

Yunho comes out of the small kitchen with a glass of water. “I didn’t realise you invited yourself over to give me domestic advices.”

Touché. Changmin takes the offered glass and drains half of it in one swig, placing it on the table before he goes to crowd Yunho against the wall. Yunho relents easily, lets Changmin slips his hands underneath that pink sweater to press bruising fingertips into his ribs. The laughing curve of Yunho’s mouth makes his blood simmer and he seals his own mouth over it, licks his way inside like a starving man. His dick’s already aching.

Changmin can’t, _won’t_ wait.

“Bed. Now.”

Yunho makes a throaty voice of assent. He doesn’t stop mouthing at Changmin’s neck, even as he loops his arms around Changmin’s waist and pulls him towards an opened door. The bed is a single, not really big enough for two but it’s better than the toilet where they had their first fuck. Changmin considers this a marked improvement. The back of his knees hit the bedframe and he drags Yunho down with him, spends an eternity kissing him thoroughly so Yunho would always remember what he tastes like. When they pull apart, they’re both fighting for breath. Chest heaving, Yunho slips out of Changmin’s arms to get to his feet.

Changmin glares, displeased. “ _Yunho_.”

“Shouldn’t you call me ‘hyung’?” His eyes crinkle as he sheds the sweater, does the same with his shorts and underwear. He’s taking his time and while Changmin enjoys the show, he’d rather have Yunho pressed close to him again. Yunho grabs a bottle from the bedside table and tosses it towards Changmin. “Heechul said you’re two years younger.”

Changmin rolls his eyes. He catches the lube and snaps the cap open. “Fine. Come here, _hyung_ , so I can finger you open.” And then snaps it close, lips curling into a smirk. “Unless you want me to fuck you dry?”

Yunho licks his lips and crawls towards Changmin, eyes dark with molten heat.

He doesn’t get to fuck Yunho dry, although it’s a close thing because his impatience gets the better of him. He’s usually more in control than this and it’s a novel experience to crave someone so badly that even putting on a rubber feels like a chore. Their bodies move in uncoordinated tangle and Yunho bites out curses when Changmin sinks into his tight heat. They go at it sloppy and hard, the sound of his dick driving inside Yunho loud and dirty within the four walls of the room. Yunho keeps his eyes wide open, doesn’t leave Changmin’s face as his body jerks from the force of Changmin’s thrusts. Changmin finds it odd at first, but he’s too busy working them towards the edge to wonder why Yunho is a lot quieter this time around, his voice muted into breathless, shapeless sounds. He’s still beautiful though, even more so when writhing and thrashing like being fucked open by Changmin’s dick is his life’s calling.

Yunho’s flat on his back and when Changmin tries to flip him over, he goes rigid. A hand lashes out to grip Changmin’s forearm and he blinks down at Yunho as the pounding of blood in his ears eases into a quiet murmur.

Changmin isn’t above using force to get what he wants and Yunho hadn’t minded when he was manhandled back in the bar, but he pulls back in time to see the look on Yunho’s face. It isn’t terror, not really, but it’s enough to make Changmin hesitate. “You okay?”

“Ye—Yeah. Just—” Yunho exhales shakily and Changmin can’t figure out what’s wrong. “Like this—”

“What?”

“I need to see your face. W-When you’re—” Yunho bites his lower lip, eyelashes fluttering. He pushes up onto his elbows, hips grinding into Changmin. “Please?”

Changmin doesn’t remember Yunho requesting anything like this before – it’s different from the wild abandon he exhibited during their first time together and he suspects that there’s a story behind it. Something that happened between the bar and right now, but he’s still nestled inside Yunho and he finds it pure torture to keep himself still. Yunho’s not asking him to stop though and he can accommodate that request, doesn’t care for their position as long as he can keep on fucking Yunho. Yunho grabs the back of his thighs and pulls them towards his chest, so so flexible and willing. It’s an invitation for Changmin to start moving again and he rocks forward, watching the thick length of his dick slides in and out of Yunho’s stretched and reddened hole. He drops a hand to close it around Yunho’s dick and groans when the stimulation causes Yunho to clench around him even tighter.

Yunho comes with a choked off cry and Changmin isn’t too far behind, his whole body stiffening and then collapsing on Yunho’s. They lay on that small bed, struggling for breath, until Yunho wriggles feebly underneath him. Changmin gets the message and pulls out, carefully bringing the condom with him. He tugs it off and takes aim, somehow manages to lob it straight into the trash can. It’s a miracle he’s coordinated enough after that vigorous exercise. He flops back onto the bed, bracketing Yunho against the wall and relishing the satisfied hum singing through his veins. Yunho stretches languidly, eyes closed and toes curling into the rumpled bedsheet. His skin gleams with sweat and Changmin thinks about dragging his tongue across that expanse of enticing smoothness, about going for seconds.

The only reason he doesn’t is because of the burning urge to _know_.

“Did something happen after I met you the first time?” He can see Yunho stiffening at the question, which makes Changmin even more curious. “You didn’t care about the face thing before.”

Yunho groans and ducks his head, half-buried in a crumpled pillow. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Changmin palms Yunho’s shoulder, drawing him into the circle of his arms. “Was it me? Did I fuck up?"

Yunho’s quiet for minutes, remains unmoving despite Changmin’s coaxing hands. He’s almost given up when Yunho murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, “Nightmares.”

Changmin frowns. “Nightmares?”

“Yeah. Almost every day now.” The words come easier once his silence is broken and Yunho shifts closer to Changmin, as if seeking comfort. He looks vulnerable, eyes marred with grievous injury and Changmin notices the dark smudges under them for the first time. “Hands pulling and pushing at me, like… they want something I can’t give. But I can’t see any faces. Just hands and voices and—” He squeezes his eyes shut, shuddering. “—pain. Inside. Everywhere. So I can’t— I have to see your face when we… do it. Or I’ll get a panic attack.”

“It happened before?”

“Once. You should’ve seen the look on that poor guy’s face.” Changmin smothers the spike of jealousy at the thought of someone else in his place and concentrates on the weak laughter that spills out of Yunho’s mouth before it tapers into a sigh. “It’s just— ugly. And the nightmares won’t stop.”

His fingers find their way into Yunho’s hair in gentle strokes, wishes than he can do more to chase those headless ghosts away. “How long haven’t you been sleeping right?”

“Feels like ages.” Yunho’s brows wrinkle with the effort to remember. “Three weeks, I think. It’s getting harder to keep track of time.”

“Shit.” Changmin can’t imagine how Yunho manages to still sound so cheerful during lunch earlier. He would’ve been a walking zombie. “That fucking sucks.”

Yunho makes a quiet, exhausted noise that rattles Changmin’s heart. “Don’t tell Heechul because he’ll just worry. You’re the only one who knows about the nightmares, aside from my sister.”

Changmin nods, doesn’t ask why Yunho decides to trust him with the secret. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger. Or a near stranger, in his case, than actual friends. Yunho stifles a yawn and Changmin, despite better judgement because he knows he’s supposed to get going (he has shitload of things to do, like his assignment and modules and reading texts) rearranges him so Yunho’s back is flush against his chest. Yunho doesn’t resist, allows Changmin to tangle their legs together until he can’t quite tell where one begins and the other ends. He puts his arm around Yunho’s middle and pulls him in that impossible inch closer.

“Go to sleep, hyung.” Changmin kisses the back of Yunho's neck and lingers for a few seconds. Yunho breathes slowly, but says nothing. "It's okay. I'll be here."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, leave some crumbs because writers are starved creatures. i get up in the morning for kudos and reviews, thanks.


	3. .03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, this is where it starts getting hairy. remember that non-con tag? yep, it's here. although it's more implied than explicit, do tread with caution. 
> 
> also massive shoutout to the boys for nissan! tomorrow's the last day so hopefully they'll end it with a bang! SO PROUD OF BOTH OF YOU! ❤

 

It’s the small, jerky movements that jostle Changmin awake and it takes him several seconds to gather enough brain cells to remember where he is. The room is shrouded in half-darkness, shadows chased to be very edges by streetlights spilling through the window in generous golden bars. Changmin props himself up on an elbow and leans over Yunho, a frown finding its way onto his face once he realises how badly Yunho is shaking. His body is tucked into a protective curl, like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. Hiding, from something Changmin can’t see. The bent line of his spine gleams with sweat.

The quiet, desperate whimpers Yunho makes send apprehension pooling into the pit of Changmin’s stomach.

“Yunho?” Changmin uses both hands to drag him closer, trying to wrench him away from the grip of nightmares. It’s the first time he’s dealing with this kinda thing and he knows he’s in over his head – he’s not in the habit of staying longer than necessary in someone else’s bed, isn’t used to fighting someone else’s battles. Changmin forces an arm through the tight curl of limbs, grits his teeth when Yunho squeezes at his joint but he doesn’t stop until he has a palm curved around the sweat-slick cut of Yunho’s jaw. “Hey, come on, hyung, wake up.”

Yunho whines, trying to lean away from the noise. Changmin gets a better grip and hauls him even closer, even as Yunho fights him off blindly. There’s a part of his nightmares that Changmin recalls has something to with people overpowering him, so Changmin softens his grip. Murmurs soothing nonsense into Yunho’s ear, stroking languid circles on his back until the trembling slows a fraction. A few minutes later, Yunho’s eyes flutter open. Dark and terrified, and Changmin breathes a sigh of relief.

What he doesn’t expect is the fist slamming into his cheekbone.

Changmin’s head snaps back and the sheer surprise of being decked by Yunho unbalances him, makes him tumble out of the bed in a flail of long, naked limbs. The only reason he doesn’t land headfirst is because he twists just in time to brace himself against the floor. It’s still an awkward position and his entire face stings – he doesn’t want to think about the state of his nether region somewhere up there. Sliding completely out of bed, Changmin winces when his ass makes contact with the floor. Which is ice cold, just his fucking luck.

“Changmin?”

Yunho’s head appears from above and the expression on his face would’ve been hilarious if Changmin isn’t nursing what promises to be a large, ugly bruise come morning. He sighs and picks himself off the floor, snagging his boxers on the way up. He steps into them and sits on the edge of the bed. Yunho still looks tense, so tightly drawn that he’s awkward in his movements. Changmin reaches out to run his fingers through Yunho’s hair, rubbing at the scalp. “You had a nightmare.”

His shoulders stiffen and he gestures at Changmin’s face, horrified. “Did I—?”

Changmin touches his cheek gingerly. “This? Nah, I banged into the headboard when I woke up.”

Yunho doesn’t look convinced, but he asks no further question. They sit on the bed like that for a while – Changmin’s fingers sifting through Yunho’s hair, Yunho leaning against him for support. He’s warm all over, soft and pliant under Changmin’s ministration. It feels less like a fuck buddy thing and more like a relationship thing, something Changmin would rather not think about if he can help it. A car alarm goes off right outside, followed by loud chatters from the lower floor of the building and that’s the cue from the world to remind them of other things outside of their little universe.   

Yunho shrugs off Changmin’s hand with a brittle smile and then scoots closer to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. As if in apology. “Let’s get dinner. My treat.”

They dress in the dark and leave the bed unmade. Dinner is a stall around the corner that sells odeng and the owner greets Yunho like a son. Changmin smiles when he’s introduced and he gets the usual ‘ _oh my, you’re so good looking!_ ’ spiel, with the added bonus of being fussed over because of his darkening bruise. They order some soju to go with the fish cakes and the auntie gives them a plate of neatly-sliced kimbap because apparently Yunho is her favourite customer. Changmin wonders if Yunho goes around charming everyone who comes into contact with him. He pours soju into two shot glasses and watches Yunho fish out some skewers for them to share.

Yunho turns to Changmin, curious. “How long was I out before you had to wake me up?”

“Well, I came by around four, I think.” Changmin checks the time on his phone and does a quick mental calculation. “It’s half-past ten now, so… about five hours?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “That’s the most I’ve slept since the nightmares started.”

“Yeah?” Changmin smirks into his bowl and says, low enough so his voice doesn’t carry, “Guess I can add healing sex to my repertoire of superpowers.”

Yunho chokes on a mouthful of fish cakes and Changmin laughs at him, gets a shove in the ribs seconds later. But Yunho does look a lot less weary, like the weight on his shoulder is no longer as heavy. He nudges at Changmin, mouth hitched into a bright smile. “Thank you, Changminnie.”

It’s some kind of a knee-jerk reaction and Changmin thinks he’s as blindsided as Yunho when he blurts out, “I can come over again. Help you sleep, hyung.”

Yunho blinks. “Huh?”

“Healing sex, remember?” Changmin presses a hand over his chest and sighs dramatically. “I’ve been burdened with a glorious purpose.”

Yunho’s still staring at him, half in disbelief. The other half is probably amusement, if the tell-tale twitch of his mouth is of any indication. “And that glorious purpose is to have sex with me until I don’t get nightmares anymore?”

“That’s the kind of sacrifice I’m willing to make. I heard sleep deprivation had killed people before. And make people kill people. Come to think of it, I’m actually saving innocent lives by fucking you, hyung.”

“Wow, I feel so special.” Yunho’s voice is dry, but he’s outright grinning now. “So what do I owe you for your selfless sacrifice?”

Changmin waves an empty skewer at him. “Dinner would be good. Or breakfast. You can cook, right?”

Yunho grabs the skewer and tosses it onto the pile between them. “Of course.”

“Then we have a deal.” Changmin frowns when Yunho starts fiddling with his shot glass. “Hyung? What’s wrong?”

“Are you really okay with this?” Doubt bleeds from each word. The look he levels on Changmin is painfully earnest. “You don’t have to go out of your way to help me, Changmin-ah. I’m sure I’ll manage, somehow.”

“I don’t mind.” Although it’s not something he’s ever done for someone else, Changmin thinks there’s always the first time for everything. Helping Yunho out would be like accumulating karma points and if he’s more affected by the distress he saw on Yunho’s face mid experiencing nightmares than he initially expected, nobody needs to know that. Especially Yunho. “I mean, I can’t drop by every day, but my schedule’s not that packed. And getting free food on the side is a pretty sweet deal.”

Yunho opens his mouth to argue but he must’ve seen something on Changmin’s face to decide otherwise. He clinks their shot glasses gently and nods, an agreement of an understanding. The auntie comes back with more soju and they lapse into comfortable conversation, exchanging life stories and recognising mutual friends. Changmin goes home at half past three and stumbles into bed fully-clothed, a decision he regrets the morning after when Kyuhyun wouldn’t stop asking if he’s fucking someone new. While he and Kyuhyun don’t keep secrets from each other, the arrangement he has with Yunho is another thing altogether.

In which the only option left is to lie.

“Yeah, a chick from—uh, Accounting.”

Kyuhyun squints. “The fuck happened to your face?”

Shit. Changmin had forgotten all about the bruise – he’d been wondering why half of his face’s throbbing. “Her boyfriend found out and wasn’t too happy about it.”

“Damn, Chwang.” Kyuhyun’s laughing at him, the fucking asshole. “Living that dangerous life.”

“Fuck off. It’s not like the topic came up when I was balls deep inside her.”

Changmin feels like sleeping the entire day, only that he has an appointment with his Computational Linguistics professor and he can’t reschedule this late without getting chewed up. He scrubs at his face and winces when it throbs in protest. He barely makes it to the appointment and has to endure more questions about his swollen face before they get to discuss his paper. The rest of the day is just classes and getting stared at like he’s a walking poster for domestic violence. The attention gets to him by lunch and Changmin hides out in the library, builds a fort of books as he works on his Morphology assignment. Kyuhyun drops by to smuggle in a sandwich and to inform him that the gang’s going for a drink post-dinner.

Changmin swallows a mouthful of slaw and shakes his head. “Sorry, man. I’ve got— something else to do.”

Kyuhyun, because he’s not an idiot, doesn’t buy the excuse. “Are you hooking up with that girl again?”

“Who?”

“The one with the boyfriend.”

Changmin’s about to expound on his earlier question with a ‘ _what the fuck_ ’ but remembers the lie he told on time. “Uh. Yeah. Ex-boyfriend though. They broke up.”

Kyuhyun makes a face. “Dude.”

Changmin shrugs. “She’s hot.”

“ _Dude_.”

“And kinky.”

Kyuhyun considers it for a second. “Your funeral. She sounds like trouble.”

Changmin chooses to ignore him, because he doesn’t need a premonition of doom on top of everything else. Kyuhyun goes off to his next class and Changmin Lines Yunho to let him know he’ll be coming tonight. The unread badge doesn’t disappear until Changmin is halfway through his essay and he buys some beer on his way to Yunho’s, picks up a toothbrush as well because if he’s staying over, he’s not about to share toothbrushes. The door is unlocked and the shower’s running, so Changmin opens the fridge to park his six-pack. There are textbooks on the kitchen counter, one of them lying open next to a half-empty cup of coffee.

He’s reading through the notes and marvelling at the ugly doodles in the margins between the passages when Yunho comes out of the shower with a towel on his head, rubbing so vigorously that he’s splattering drops of water onto the floor. Changmin decides that he’d be a terrible roommate, although the picture he makes right now is exceptional. The sweatpants he wears hangs low enough that Changmin sees the jutting cut of his hipbones and he thinks about taking Yunho down then and there, gets his dick in that sweet ass until Yunho screams, all lovely and bare.

Yunho’s face brightens when he sees Changmin and he hooks the towel over his shoulder, hair still dripping everywhere. “Have you eaten? I was thinking about ramyun—”

Changmin slides over from the counter, licking his lips. “That can wait.”

“But—”

Yunho stays where he is and lets Changmin approach, the protest never quite making it through his lips. Changmin skims his knuckles along Yunho’s cheekbones, likes the way Yunho’s face tilts ever so slightly towards him, eyes going heavy-lidded. He’s breathing a little faster; Changmin can feel the rise and fall of his bare chest and he shivers violently when Changmin pinches a nipple. Changmin touches his mouth to Yunho’s and when Yunho sways forward, he puts an arm around Yunho’s waist to catch him. The towel flops onto the floor as Changmin drags Yunho to the couch, intent on getting inside him as soon as possible.

Changmin bends him over the arm of the couch, yanks down those sweatpants and kicks his legs wide apart. He gets Yunho ready with nothing but spit and fingering, and he would’ve felt bad about it if Yunho isn’t making those choked off, hungry noises that go straight to his dick. He grips the back of Yunho’s neck to force Yunho further into the couch, until his bare feet is up on tiptoes and he’s gasping for breath. Yunho claws at the cushions desperately, flushed all over and sweetly willing and so fucking beautiful that Changmin hurts just looking at him. He gets his jeans and underwear down just enough to take his dick out, stroking it with more spit. He has half a mind to shove in just like that, but knows better. Once he’s rolled on the condom, he uses two fingers to push and press the meat of his dick inside, watching himself sink into Yunho’s heat slowly.

Yunho jolts at the first press, legs jerking as Changmin fucks into him. He’s sobbing into the cushion but doesn’t resist, and Changmin goes deeper, harder. Pressure and heat soon build inside him, centred on where he’s driving into Yunho’s body. His grip on Yunho’s hip is slippery with sweat and he digs his nails deeper, hears a breathless grunt in response. Changmin reaches under him and finds Yunho’s dick pressed to the side of the couch, stiff and wet at the tip and it takes three strokes for his come to pulse over Changmin’s fingers. Changmin grinds in hard – once, twice, and he scrabbles to push Yunho down as he comes like a freight train. He thinks about how much better it would feel if he can fill Yunho up, watch his come leak out down the back of Yunho’s leg. Changmin’s dick twitches at the mental image and he takes a step back, rolling off the condom.

“You okay?”

Yunho shifts to his side, still breathing hard and the smile on his face tells Changmin that he’s more than okay. Changmin lands a gentle smack on his ass before he moves to the kitchen to find a rubbish bin. His stomach growls to remind him that the only thing he’s eaten all day is the sandwich and he goes back to the couch to find Yunho pulling up his sweatpants, wincing at each slight movement. Changmin circles his arms around Yunho and kisses his cheek, his neck and shoulder, tightening his grip when Yunho starts wriggling at the feather-light brushes.

“I just took a shower,” Yunho complains in between giggles, trying to squirm his way free to no avail. “Changminnie, stop~!”

Changmin huffs and nips at his ear. “Take another one. I’ll join you.”

The shower ends up longer than initially planned because Yunho drops to his knees and sucks Changmin down, before Changmin jack him off against the wet tiles. They stumble out like two drowned rats since none of them remembers to bring towels into the tiny bathroom. Yunho treks water through the apartment as he digs an extra for Changmin and then heads straight for the kitchen to make some ramyun once he puts on a shirt and the same sweatpants. Changmin changes into fresh clothes he’s had the foresight to bring and flops onto the couch, switching on the television as he waits for dinner to be served. The soup comes out kind of watery but they’re starving, so the only sounds for ten minutes are of them slurping up bloated noodles and squabbling over who gets to have the last piece of sausage. Changmin wins thanks to a tried and tested strategy – by pouting and widening his already large eyes (Kyuhyun calls them ‘ _Bambi’s eyes_ ’, telling everyone who would listen not to fall for them because Changmin is not as innocent as those eyes suggest).

It’s obvious Yunho has never heard of that ridiculous diatribe before.

Changmin wants to keep it that way.

“I’ve got some work to do,” Yunho says when they’re done, collects the bowls and dumps them in the sink. “You can go to bed first if you want.”

The bedroom door is ajar and he can make out the corner of Yunho’s bed, the untidy heap of blankets at its foot. He still has a few chapters to read though, so Changmin ends up joining Yunho at the kitchen counter and unearths his own notes from his backpack. It’s the first time he sees Yunho in a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles and Yunho laughs when Changmin kisses him just to find out how it feels to kiss someone who’s wearing glasses. After that brief distraction, they study together for nearly an hour and Yunho makes more coffee, pours them into two mismatched mugs in bright colours. He drinks his black, with just a spoonful of sugar, and Changmin watches Yunho grimace after every sip.

He has a suspicion he needs to confirm when he asks, “You don’t really like coffee, do you?”

“I prefer hot chocolate.” Yunho looks up from the textbook, pen poised mid-sentence. His smile is quiet, weary. “But coffee keeps me awake at night.”

“Because of the nightmares?”

“Yeah.” Yunho tries to wave off the concern that must’ve shown on Changmin’s face by hastily adding, “But it’s not like I don’t sleep at all. I nap between classes. It’s enough to keep me going.”

Changmin exhales slowly and closes his book, puts everything back into his bag. He grabs Yunho’s arm. “C’mon, sleep first, hyung.”

He expects at least token resistance, but Yunho merely nods and lets Changmin lead him into the bedroom. It’s still a tight squeeze and Changmin misses the comfort of his own bed, but he figures that it’s a fair trade to get Yunho all warm and curled up against him. He knows the exact moment Yunho has fallen asleep – his body goes lax, no longer held in tight, anxious lines and he burrows deeper into Changmin’s arms. It’s stupidly adorable and Changmin kisses the top of Yunho’s head, mutters a quick prayer for an uninterrupted rest. He drifts into sleep soon after, only to wake up when Yunho stirs. At first he thinks it’s the nightmare again, but he distinctly hears his phone’s alarm going off from the bedside table.

Changmin gets up on an elbow and glances at the window.

It’s bright outside.

Yunho blinks up at him, eyes creased with residual sleep. His voice is slightly scratchy when he asks, “Changmin?”

“Congratulations, hyung.” Changmin shuts off the alarm and grins at Yunho. “You’ve survived until morning.”

“Wha— Really??”

Yunho pushes Changmin off and scrambles for his phone to check the time. The disbelief on his face once he realises he’s indeed slept through the night cracks Changmin up and he grabs Yunho’s shoulder, wrestles him back to bed. They laugh all the way down, although Yunho sounds like he’s on the verge of crying in sheer relief. Changmin would’ve hated for tears to ruin the moment.

“My dick is magical,” Changmin declares to the ceiling, trapping Yunho underneath him with an arm. “I should be advertising this just in case someone else needs my help.”

Yunho looks at him with eyes crinkled and affectionate, and he shows just how grateful he is by going down on Changmin before they have to get out of bed for class. It becomes some kind of a routine after that. Changmin goes to Yunho’s place at least three to four times a week – he would’ve visited more often, but it feels like he’s already toeing at some kind of an invisible line between them. He leaves a toothbrush and several changes of clothes, and Yunho empties a drawer for him. He learns that Yunho is on partial scholarship and that he has two part-time jobs – bartending in one of the seedier places downtown (apparently he helps out at Boa’s once in a while too) and the occasional shifts in a ramen joint. Changmin’s tired just thinking about it and takes over cooking dinner when Yunho looks like he’s been through the grinder.

Most of the times, they get take-outs, have sex and fight for the leftovers.

In the morning, he wakes Yunho up with kisses and bites, and is rewarded handsomely for keeping the nightmares at bay. They get breakfast together when they’re not running late or if Yunho isn’t expected at his part-time gigs – those are the days when they get to stay longer in bed. Sometimes, Changmin wonders how Yunho sleeps when Changmin isn’t there, if he even sleeps at all. Or if he drinks coffee like water. Yunho always looks so grateful when he opens the door and sees Changmin there, sinks so readily into sleep as their bodies curl into each other. As if he hinges his entire survival on Changmin’s presence.

Changmin resolutely ignores that small voice at the back of his head that points out how domestic this entire arrangement is.

Kyuhyun, however, is not so easily ignored. “You’re spending an awful lot of time with your new girlfriend and I’ve yet to see her.”

“She’s busy.” Changmin scrolls through his Instagram feed for an easy stew recipe, since Yunho mentioned in passing that it’s been quite some time since he last had some. He raises an eyebrow at Kyuhyun over his phone. “Thought you said you’re hanging out with Minho?”

“I am.” Kyuhyun plants his ass on Changmin’s left leg and doesn’t budge when Changmin tries to dislodge him. “You’re coming as well, or I’ll tell Hyukjae-hyung that you threw up in his favourite cap last semester.”

Changmin knows defeat when it’s grinning evilly at him while trying to break his leg, so that’s how he finds himself squeezed between Kyuhyun and Minho in their usual karaoke place later that afternoon, as Shindong, Hyukjae and Donghae belt out the new Red Velvet song, synchronised dance included. Siwon’s laughing his head off and taking a video to share in their group chat. Changmin chooses an X Japan song when it’s his turn and halfway through his soulful rendition of Forever Love, the door swings open to reveal Heechul. And Yunho. Who flashes him a bright grin and two thumbs up as Changmin stumbles and misses a few lines.

Kyuhyun boos. Changmin regathers and throws a cushion at his asshole of a best friend’s head, before finishing the song to cheers from the rest of the peanut gallery. He tosses the microphone at Minho as another girl group’s song comes up and he thinks fate is smiling down at him when Yunho takes Minho’s place, leaving the spot next to him empty. Changmin drops into it with a flourish and accidentally (on purpose) smacks Yunho’s thigh, his way of saying ‘hello’. Yunho gives him a brief glance of fond exasperation, before turning back to his conversation with Siwon and Leeteuk. Changmin settles deeper into the couch and hums along to the song Minho’s butchering, already thinking about what he would do to Yunho that night when Kyuhyun shatters his pleasant reverie with an elbow nudge. Changmin grimaces – Kyuhyun has very sharp elbows.  

“Have you seen it?”

“What?”

“There’s a new video going ‘round right now.” The gleam in his eyes is downright unholy and Changmin is maybe a bit concerned. “It’s fucking dirty, I’m telling you.”

He wrinkles his nose. “You know you can get better quality porn off the ‘net instead of all those amateur shit, right?”

“This is different, Shim. Just watch it.”

Kyuhyun shoves his phone at Changmin, the screen so brightly-lit inside the dark room that it feels like a beacon. Changmin can tell Yunho’s moving closer to him, peering over his shoulder like a curious cat. He shrugs and hits the play button. There’s no sound coming from the video, but Changmin can pretty much guess what’s being said just from its content. The camerawork leaves a lot to be desired, a bit on the shaky side (from excitement, no doubt) and the lighting’s pretty bad – it looks like it’s been filmed in a hotel room, based on the generic décor and lack of personal knickknacks. The camera swings to a king-sized bed and it cuts to black abruptly. When the video comes on again, it’s focused on a naked man sprawled on what Changmin assumes to be the same bed. His face is out of frame and the camera moves in a loving caress from the sharp lines of his collarbone to his chest, pans on his nipples for several seconds. It lingers there as two hands appear, palming the expanse of bared skin and pinching at the nipples as the body undulate under their hands. The body is struggling, weakly, but it’s there. A couple more hands join in and Changmin realises they’re holding the body down, getting more aggressive with each second.

The camera shakes as whoever it is behind it moves into better position.

Or maybe they’re laughing. It’s hard to tell with the lack of audio.

The camera slides lower as the hands gets rougher and Changmin’s blood freezes when he catches sight of a small, circular scar sitting just above the body’s hipbone.

He knows that scar. Intimately.

Behind him, Yunho has gone deathly quiet.

There’s a litany of _fuck fuck_ fuck running through Changmin’s mind because that body in the video?

It’s Yunho's.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and reviews keep me going. i'm like a train to nowhere but pls fuel this mf right up, thanks.


	4. .04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h o l y. this chapter has been such a pain to write but things are finally coming to heads. for better or for worse, who knows. to those who've taken the time to drop some reviews, I THANK YE. HEAPS. you keep me going, homies. *fingerguns

 

Yunho excuses himself five minutes into the video.

He practically crashes out of the room in his haste, one hand clasped over his mouth and heedless of Heechul’s concerned inquiry. The confusion lasts for mere seconds, until Minho shrugs, starts singing again and the rest goes back to whatever they’ve been doing. Except for Siwon, who goes after Yunho after a few quick words to Heechul. Distantly, Changmin thinks that he should be in Siwon’s place, but his eyes are glued to the screen and it feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience. He wants to stop, wants to check up on Yunho, but he stays rooted on the couch. Bile rises at the back of his throat when the body ( _Yunho’s_ , his mind stutters in sheer fucking horror, _that’s Yunho oh god_ ) is manhandled like a piece of meat, hands pushing and trapping him under their weight. His struggle gets weaker and more hands yank the legs apart, fingers dripping with lube coming into view. Changmin knows what’s coming next.

It’s morbid curiosity that makes him keep watching.

Changmin wonders where the fuck is his survival instinct and why hasn’t it kicked in yet.

The video’s about fifteen minutes long and he has to physically stop himself from retching once it ends, although he doubts it captures the entirety of the wretched things they did to Yunho. Judging from the amount of hands, there are at least three guys involved and they must’ve given Yunho some sort of a drug to keep him from fighting them off – roofies, maybe. Or any other date rape drugs easily obtained if you know the right scumbags. That would’ve been the usual modus operandi. Changmin wants to find them, break their fingers and then rip their dicks off.

He tosses the phone back to Kyuhyun and hopes the half-dark hides how badly his hand shakes.

“That’s fucking rape, Kyu!” he whisper-shouts, furious. He thinks about Yunho – his earnest, bright smiles, his unrestrained enthusiasm for life, the way he sweetly kisses Changmin no matter how hard Changmin goes at him – and everything inside his chest clenches painfully. “What the fuck?”

Kyuhyun’s face is grim and he moves closer to Changmin, lowers his voice. “Yoona showed me the video, said her friend saw it and told her the same thing happened to a few girls before. This is not their first gig.”

It’s small comfort to know that Kyuhyun isn’t one of the lowlifes jacking off to the video. Changmin wouldn’t have to renounce their friendship after all. “You found out who posted the video?”

“Not yet, but do you remember Minhwan-hyung?”

“The one who kicked your ass at Starcraft?”

Kyuhyun sighs, clearly annoyed at being reminded of his dismal track record against their university’ gaming authority. “He’s reaching out to his friends and they’re gonna try to find the original source.”

While he doesn’t expect Kyuhyun to be part of a vigilante movement, it’s good to know something’s being done to bring the scumbags to justice. Changmin’s brows crease into a frown when something occurs to him. “So why the hell did you show the video to me?”

“It’s a longshot, but I thought you might recognise the guy in the video,” Kyuhyun says with a careless shrug. “Since you’re an equal opportunist and have probably fucked, like, half of the people on campus.”

Changmin opens his mouth to argue the point but slowly closes it when Kyuhyun just gives him A Look. They both know it’s true, at least before Changmin gets involved with Yunho. “Why are you searching for the guy? Shouldn’t you be focusing on those fucking rapists first?”

“He might remember something. And he’ll need support, Chwang. Maybe even therapy. People don’t just get over shit like this.”

Changmin grounds his teeth, can’t find any fault in that logic. He knows for a fact that Yunho needs psychological help, especially when he’s having nightmares over some kind of subconscious recollection of his horrifying ordeal. And now that he knows those aren’t nightmares, Changmin can’t even imagine how Yunho must’ve felt. Kyuhyun is right. But that would require Changmin to actually confess to recognising the naked body, that he can tell it’s Yunho because of one small scar that would’ve otherwise gone unnoticed. Which means he’ll have to explain _how_. And _why_.

Changmin remembers mouthing at the scar, biting down at the skin around it because he wants to leave something as permanent on Yunho.

His throat feels dry, sandpaper coarse.

“Kyu, listen—”

The door of the room swings open slowly and Siwon shoulders it further ajar, his face lined with worries. Changmin can see Yunho’s lowered head behind him and he realises Siwon has an arm around Yunho’s waist, holding him up and against him. Jealousy flares to life in the pit of Changmin’s stomach, but it’s doused almost immediately once he notices the sickly pallor of Yunho’s skin. He sinks nails into his knees to halt his kneejerk reaction – which is to remove Yunho from Siwon and get him home where Changmin knows he will be safe. Heechul straightens and goes to Siwon and Yunho at once, speaks to him in hushed whispers.  

“Guys, I’m gonna send Yunho home first. He’s not feeling too good.” Yunho nods weakly, but he doesn’t look up from where his face is pressed into the back of Siwon’s shoulder. Heechul pats his back, still frowning. “Teukie-hyung, you okay hitching a ride with someone else?”

Leeteuk nods, looks as worried as the rest. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. Get well soon, Yun.”

A chorus of well wishes chips in and Siwon manoeuvres out of the room with Yunho still latched onto him. Heechul grabs his jacket and joins them, no doubt too invested in Yunho’s well-being to just let him be. Yunho lifts his head for a second and Changmin catches his eyes.

It’s surprising how much he can read in that one single glance.

The room goes back to its former chaos and Kyuhyun turns to Changmin. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

“Nah, I forgot.” Changmin shakes his head, grabs the menu to order some more drinks and snacks to distract Kyuhyun. “But call me up if you find them. I’m game for some ass-kicking.”

Kyuhyun scoffs. “I thought you said you’re a lover, not a fighter?”

“Yeah, but—” _this is different, this is for Yunho,_ “—at least I've got bigger biceps than your scrawny chicken wings.”

The punch to his shoulder is well-deserved. Changmin sends a quick message to Yunho, asking him to text when Siwon and Heechul are no longer playing mother hens. He gets an ‘ _ok_ ’ half an hour later and that eases some of the worried rumbling in his chest. Changmin goes back with Kyuhyun once the karaoke party breaks up, does a bit of reading and writing as he waits for Yunho’s text. He’s pretty sure his essay is fifty percent gibberish with questionable references, but it’s not due for another two weeks and he can afford a rewrite once he’s less concerned about the state of Yunho’s mind.

He’s not even sure what he can say to make things better.

If Yunho even wants him to. It’s not like they’re anything more than friends and casual fuck buddies.

Changmin stops tapping the butt of his pen against the page he’s been trying to read and feels the onset of an existential crisis creeping through the clutter inside his head.

His phone chimes.

Kyuhyun doesn’t even ask where he’s going when he starts shoving things into his backpack, simply waves over the lit screen of his laptop in goodbye or good luck, who knows. Changmin makes a quick detour to Yunho’s favourite chicken place, which is fortunately still open despite the late hours. His luck runs out at the café though and he has to settle for a couple canned chocolate drinks from the vending machine close to Yunho’s building. Apprehension sits in his stomach as he stands in front of the door, armed with an armful of fried chicken and a heart that cares more than he’d like to admit. When Yunho opens the door with red-rimmed eyes and downturned mouth, ashen skin made worse by the dim light, Changmin accepts what his heart has known all along.

He loves Yunho.

Somehow, in between those days spent fucking and sleeping and waking up and eating and laughing over inane things together, Changmin has fallen in love. And it’s unlike the frothy, champagne-sweet lightness of his previous relationships. It’s nothing as pretty. The thing he has for Yunho is darker, heavier, more vicious. Like a riptide. It’s unfamiliar and terrifying. But Changmin knows it’s not something he can ignore any longer, because whatever they have between them before is bound to change in light of what they’ve learnt today about the origin of Yunho’s nightmares. It’s partly cathartic for Changmin to finally come to terms with his own tangled feelings, but he’s not here for himself.

“Changminnie?”

“I brought dinner.” The smile stretching across his face feels too plastic. He makes a beeline for the kitchen and places the box of chicken on the counter. “Have you eaten?”

Yunho rubs knuckles over his eyes, exhales slowly. The door closes behind him and he pads towards the couch, drops into it heavily. “Not yet.”

Changmin rounds the counter and goes to his knees in front of Yunho, hands on his thighs. The coffee table is digging into his back; there’s not enough space for someone of his size to squeeze between the couch and the table but Changmin doesn’t give a shit. He can’t find the words to say to make things better and Yunho looks at him like he understands. They stare at each other in silence, Changmin’s hands on Yunho’s thighs and it seems eternity before either of them moves. Yunho is the first to look away when he ducks his head, face cradled in his hands as his shoulder begins to shake. It starts off with muffled hiccups that soon escalate into quiet, heart wrenching sobs and Changmin gets to his feet to wrap his arms around Yunho.

“I didn’t know—” Yunho sounds like an absolute wreck, like he’s drowning in dry land. “I can’t remember what they did to me, why can’t I remember _why_ —”

Changmin rubs the line of Yunho’s spine with one hand, cradles the back of his head with the other. He feels lost and inadequate, words all jumbled up in his mouth. “Hyung, they must’ve given you something—”

“In the dreams, they said I asked for it. Th-that I want them to— to do all those—” Yunho shudders and falters, fingers clawing at his own arms. “M-Maybe it’s my fault? If I didn’t—”

“No, it’s not!” Changmin grabs Yunho’s hands before they can do any damage, pins them to his chest. Anger surges like hellfire through his veins and he’s never wanted to murder anyone as much as he does with those scumbags. “Hyung, stop it. It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault. Those fuckers are the ones who did this to you and if I get my hands on them, I’ll fucking rip them apart.”

“Changmin? Why are you—?” Yunho reaches out trembling fingertips to his cheeks and that’s when Changmin realises that he’s crying as well. It’s ridiculous because he should be the stronger one here, he’s supposed to be a fucking rock for Yunho at this time. Instead, he can’t stop the tears from streaming down his face even as he rubbed angrily at his eyes. Yunho’s face crumples and he palms Changmin’s cheek gently, trying to offer comfort in the midst of his own personal tragedy. That makes Changmin hurt even more, the tears falling hot and shameful. “Shh, Changminnie, please don’t cry— I’m sorry for dragging you into this—”

Fuck. _Fuck_. Why is he such a fucking crybaby? Changmin shakes his head vehemently, grabbing Yunho’s shoulder to anchor him in place. He has to fight to keep the tears under control, but he manages. Somehow. “Hyung, I want to be here. With you. And don’t apologise for anything. It’s not your fault. You know that, right? Whatever they told you, _they’re fucking wrong._ ”

Yunho closes his eyes and sags against Changmin, clutching onto him like a lifeline. Changmin gathers Yunho in his arms and carries him to bed, finds Yunho lighter than he looks. He must’ve skipped more meals when Changmin isn’t looking, too busy fighting off the ghosts inside his head to care about anything else. Yunho wraps his arms around Changmin’s neck, face buried in his shoulder as his tears soak through Changmin’s hoodie and he doesn’t let go when Changmin lowers him into bed. It’s an awkward position, Changmin’s back screaming in protest and he tries to dislodge Yunho again.

“Please,” is all Yunho says and Changmin understands what he wants. He can feel his resolve crumbling, with Yunho’s fingertips warm on his cheekbone. He tilts Changmin’s face closer. “ _Please_.”

It’s that desperate gleam in Yunho’s eyes that he can’t refuse. Changmin slides into bed on top of him and only then does Yunho’s arms uncoil. He takes hold of Yunho’s face in both hands, thumbs pressing into the soft skin of his temple and he kisses Yunho. Slowly, sweetly. Pries open the seam of his mouth to lick inside and takes his time to relearn each niche and crevice until they’re both gasping for breath. Changmin trails butterfly kisses everywhere he can as he divests them of clothes, Yunho rippling underneath his mouth and hands. Once they’re both pressed skin to heated skin, Yunho snakes an arm around Changmin’s neck and brushes his lips to Changmin’s temple, making the sweetest sounds Changmin has ever heard.

There’s a hitch of breath as well and Changmin doesn’t have to look to know Yunho’s crying again.

This is not how it’s supposed to be. They should talk, discuss what happened and if Yunho needs to speak with someone more experienced in dealing with trauma. And if he wants to lodge a police report, just to make sure that if they ever get their hands on those scumbags, justice will be waiting for them. He shouldn’t be fucking Yunho when he’s too shaky with grief, with unwanted revelations. Changmin has half a mind to stop, but Yunho must’ve sensed his reluctance because he’s reaching out for Changmin, his grip unrelenting even with tears streaking down his cheeks.

“I want you.” The words are murmured against Changmin’s mouth, syllables cracking under their own weight. “ _Changminnie_.”

Changmin breaks, gives in. They kiss like it’s as essential as air, like Yunho needs nothing more than the reassurance that only Changmin can give. It’s an intoxicating feeling and Changmin moves downwards, pays extra attention to Yunho’s nipples, licking and sucking them, laving them with the flat of his tongue until Yunho’s hips are rolling up, desperate to seek some contact. He maps a trail up Yunho’s chest and captures his mouth again, Yunho’s fingernails digging into his shoulder. Changmin searches for the lube on the bedside table with one hand, finds it after knocking over everything else and he slicks Yunho up patient and careful. They’ve never done this before – this slow, sweet lovemaking. Taking their time. Changmin stretches three fingers inside Yunho and he watches the way Yunho arches from the bed, sweat beading over the tautness of his skin and mouth parting in a soundless plea. Changmin strokes down his back, his thighs with tender hands and wishes for more. Wishes for Yunho’s everything.

He lines up and sinks into Yunho, easily.

Changmin holds his gaze, hands braced on either side of Yunho’s head as he works himself deeper into the sweet tightness between Yunho’s legs. His arms shake with the effort to go slow, but he thinks it’s worth it as Yunho cants his hip, pushes back against Changmin until he can’t go any further. Yunho looks up at him then, face flushed and cheeks damp and unbelievably beautiful, that Changmin wants to tell him ‘ _I love you I love I love_ ’ so badly he has to bite his lips to keep the words corralled behind his teeth. Yunho clenches hard around him and Changmin settles on a measured pace, doesn’t rush as they usually did. Changmin mouths at Yunho’s chest and shoulder and neck as he rocks inside, wants this to last as long as possible. He tells Yunho how good he is, how beautiful and perfect and he keeps going at it even when Yunho starts sobbing again. He licks off the tears and muffles the sobs with more kisses.   

Their orgasms roll out slowly, almost simultaneously.  

Changmin nearly collapses forward, but manages to roll them over so he doesn’t crush Yunho. They lie side by side, trying to catch their breath. Changmin touches Yunho’s cheek, disoriented and reverent, and Yunho smiles back at him. It’s a poor imitation of the supernova-bright grins he’s used to, but Changmin will take what he can get for now. He rests his forehead against Yunho’s as he eases himself out, feels the trickle of his come chasing after his dick. In their mindless haste, Changmin forgets all about condoms and he thinks it’s unfair that the first time they’re doing it bare is because they’re both too fucked up with grief to know better. Changmin kisses Yunho in apology, before he gets up to grab some tissues and clean them up as best as he can.

He slides into bed once he disposes of the tissues and Yunho stretches for him, seeking more kisses that he’s happy to oblige. Their kissing soon turns languid, just mouth moving lazily without much pressure. Changmin rubs at Yunho’s back slowly, watches his lashes flutter and eyes falling close as exhaustion finally catches up to him. Once Yunho’s breathing has evened out, Changmin pulls the blanket over them and settles right next to him, counting the rise and fall of his chest as he thinks about what he should do with the newfound knowledge of his feelings for Yunho. This is not the appropriate time to confess, what’s with all that’s happening. He doesn’t even realise he’s fallen asleep until the tinny, persistent sound of his ringtone jerks him awake.

When he wrangles it out of his jeans (that are wedged under the bed), the screen announces Kyuhyun’s name and Changmin frowns, thumbs at the green button before the sound wakes Yunho up. “What?”

“ _We found them._ ”

Changmin blinks in surprise, isn’t expecting them to succeed this quickly. He glances at the time – three am. “Where?”

“ _Kangta-hyung’s rounding up the guys. You coming or are you too busy underwhelming your girlfriend?_ ”

“Fuck you, Kyu. I’ll be there in thirty.”

Changmin slips out of bed carefully, thankful that Yunho is too worn out to notice and presses a kiss to Yunho's forehead before he gets going. The address Kyuhyun sends is close enough that Changmin gets there in fifteen minutes. There’s a tight cluster of five guys in the middle of the room, all of them with varying level of facial injuries. Some only have split lips and a few shiners, while one of them looks as though he’s gone through a couple of rounds with Mayweather. Probably resisted capture. If so, fucker deserves that and more. Changmin recognises two of those scumbags – one from his History of Linguistics class and the other is someone he sees frequently in the gym. The Linguistics guy notices Changmin right away and he grimaces, seems to shrink a couple sizes. Kangta is standing over them, talking to Yoona and (surprisingly) Boa. Minhwan is a few feet away with a shorter guy, looking at a few mobile phones.

The identical disgusted look plastered all over their faces makes it easy to guess what they’re currently watching.

“We’ve got enough to go to the police,” Minhwan says, addressing Kangta. His friend is hooking up the phones to a laptop. “Unless you want to bang them up a bit more. I’d say go for it.”

Boa looks like she’s about to do just that, if not for Kangta’s hand on her arm. They descend into a furious, whispered conversation and Boa drags Kangta to the side when their voices start to carry. She finally notices Changmin’s presence and he has a distinct impression that her mood sours even more, before she turns back to whisper-yell at Kangta. Yoona gives him a friendlier smile, although she looks uneasy to be there (for obvious reasons). Changmin heads towards Kyuhyun and nods in greeting, his eyes never leaving the group of rapists in their midst.    

“One of Minhwan-hyung’s friends is white hat and he traced the IP address back these dumbasses.” Kyuhyun hands Changmin a can of coffee, scoots over so there’s space for Changmin to sit on the table. When Changmin remains standing, he raises an eyebrow. “You okay, Chwang?”

“Yeah.” His fingers flexes around the can, tries to rein in the anger simmering under his skin. “I just need to ask them a question.”

Kyuhyun doesn’t look convinced. “You sure that’s it?”

Changmin gives him a tight nod and moves to single out Seongsu, his classmate. It’s unbelievable to think that someone he actually knows is involved in this vile act – they’d even been in a group together several months ago and Changmin remembers him as soft-spoken, not entirely useless but easy to push around. Changmin drags the pudgy, heavily-sweating guy away from his partners in crime and parks him far enough so they wouldn’t be overheard. His fingers curl into the front of Seongsu’s shirt and he relishes in the whimpers spilling out of the guy’s mouth.

Good. He should be fucking scared.

“Why the fuck did you do it?” Changmin yanks him closer, voice dropping into a sibilant hiss. When he registers the terrified confusion on Seongsu’s face, he spits out, “The guy in that hotel room. The one you fucking raped. Why _him_?”

Understanding dawns in those beady eyes and he swallows, throat moving against Changmin’s knuckles. Changmin would like nothing more than to crush his trachea if he so much as implies that Yunho was asking for it. “B-Because you said he’s easy.”

Changmin’s eyes narrow. “What the fuck are you talking about, you piece of shit?”

“I-In the club. When you told Siwon-sshi about h-him.” Seongsu winces as Changmin’s grip tightens, tries to struggle free. “You said he’s easy. Would’ve spread his legs for anyone. A-And we—”

_“I’d give it a four. Not tight enough. Probably fucks every guy who comes his way._ ”

 

Changmin staggers back, the world tilting underneath his feet.

 

“ _B-Because you said he’s easy._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and review can save lives. trust me, i'm a scientist.


	5. .05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know what's funny? this story didn't set out to be so angst-ridden that i had to spend a few days evaluating my life choices, but here it is. questionable decisions have been made.

 

Changmin doesn’t remember how he gets back to Yunho’s place.

He lets himself in, walks through the small living room and straight into the bedroom. Everything is on autopilot, his feet moving even with the static inside his head. Streetlight illuminates the room in streaks of yellow and Changmin looks down at the bed, at the roll of blankets Yunho’s swathed in. The only part of him sticking out is his head, lashes casting half-moon shadows on his cheeks and hair branching over crumpled pillows in strands of dark honey. He’s still sweetly beautiful and Changmin reaches out, traces fingers over the soft curves of Yunho’s face.

 

_“You said he’s easy_.”

 

Yunho stirs, forehead creasing. He shifts and blinks awake, takes a few seconds to brush aside the cobwebs of sleep. “Changminnie?”

Changmin hums in return, thumb brushing Yunho’s bottom lip.

“What time is it?” Yunho untangles the blankets, props himself up on an elbow. He’s still groggy, but he leans into Changmin’s touch as if they’ve had a lifetime together. “Did something happen?”

Changmin thinks love isn’t supposed to hurt. It never did before and he can’t quite understand why Yunho is different, why everything inside his chest hurts just looking at him. “It’s okay. Sleep.”

Yunho’s eyelashes flutter when he yawns. “And you?”

“I’m gonna— get some water.”

It’s a feeble excuse, but Yunho simply nods and allows Changmin to draw the blanket back over him. The dark makes it easier to lie – to Yunho, to himself and he doesn’t want to second guess the decision he’s making. Changmin waits until Yunho sinks deeper into sleep before he leans down to press his mouth against Yunho’s, lets the kiss linger.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He doesn’t cry, because he shouldn’t. It’s not his place anymore. “Hyung, I’m sorry.”

Changmin locks the front door when he leaves and slides the key through the small margin underneath, wishes that goodbyes are easy. He gets to his own room in one piece and burrows under his blankets, doesn’t answer Kyuhyun’s questions. By the time his alarm goes off, Changmin feels more exhausted than rested, like he’s been repeatedly tossed headfirst into walls. He’s in the middle of a lecture when his phone vibrates, the screen lit up to announce Yunho’s name. When he doesn’t answer, Yunho sends a text asking if Changmin’s okay, if he’s already in class. Changmin shoves the phone into his bag and keeps it there until he’s back in his room. He scrolls through the notifications of missed calls and unread messages, before crashing into bed and pretending everything is okay.

(It’s not.)  

The calls go straight into voicemail and he deletes them without listening, doesn’t trust his self-control to not snap when he hears Yunho’s voice. It’s only been five days, but it feels like a lifetime. He misses going to Yunho’s, misses holding him, kissing him. Misses his laughter and the way he looks at Changmin, all soft and unguarded. Changmin knows this is the very antithesis of figuring shit out, but he’d rather avoid it for as long as he can, preferably just before he starts considering jumping off a bridge. The texts are harder to ignore and he spends hours just staring at them, reads the shifts from worry to confusion to the inevitable ones where Yunho apologises, even if he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. Those are the worst and they leave Changmin with guilt so massive, he can’t even find refuge in sleep. He avoids going out as much as he can if not for his classes and labs, and sticks to drinking in his own room.

He gets called out in their group chat for his sudden reclusive turn and Hyukjae changes his screenname to ‘ _Hermit Shim_ ’.

Changmin can’t even scrounge up enough energy to object.

“Dude, the hell’s wrong with you?” Kyuhyun asks, tired of Changmin moping around. They’re still best friend so it’s in the job description for him to be concerned. “Did you break up with your girl?”

Changmin makes a vague, gurgling sound from where he’s lying face down on the bed.

Kyuhyun must’ve taken that as an affirmative, because he pats Changmin’s shoulder and sighs. “S’not like it’s the end of the world. C’mon, man. What's a better way to get over a girl than banging another? I heard Krystal’s been asking about you.”

Even the thought of going out, meeting someone (sort of) new makes him nauseous. “Nah, I’m just gonna stay in.”

Kyuhyun presses a can of beer against Changmin’s cheek, the smooth surface damp with condensation. There’s sympathy edging his voice when he asks, “Do you really like her that much?”

“Yeah. I guess.” Changmin grabs the beer and considers telling Kyuhyun the truth. Maybe later, once the dust settles for good. “Go on, have fun. Don’t impregnate anyone.”

Kyuhyun snorts, but he brings back more beer the next morning so Changmin thinks that as far as best friends go, Kyuhyun is top notch when in time of actual crisis. Yunho’s calls and texts taper off by the end of the week and while that should’ve been a reprieve, it turns out to be the exact opposite. The radio silence makes Changmin worry even more, makes him wonder how Yunho is doing. If he’s found someone else to keep the nightmares at bay. Changmin can’t fault him if he does; that’s the whole point of this distance. So that Yunho can move on. But it doesn’t mean that it hurts any less. Changmin distracts himself with schoolwork and the occasional drinking binges, obstinately resisting any attempt to drag him back into his neglected social life.

‘ _Hermit Shim_ ’ turns into ‘ _Lovesick Fool_ ’ and Changmin still doesn’t bother changing it.

The group chat speculates that he might be suffering from erectile dysfunction and is just too embarrassed to admit it. Hyukjae asks if Changmin has finally caught an STD. Or two. Three, maybe.

Changmin sends them multiple virtual middle fingers in response.

It’s in the middle of a slow Wednesday and the banging on his door is loud enough to wake the dead. Changmin rips off his headphones, wondering what the fuck is wrong now. His life isn’t going too swell – the amount of work versus his lack of motivation to get started on them has actually managed to drive him deeper into the cesspool of self-loathing he’s been wallowing in. Even Kyuhyun has taken to avoiding him when he’s in one of his moods. He punches in the last half of his sentence for the essay due tomorrow before he heads to the door. Boa is the last person he expects to see when he yanks it open, a ‘ _fuck off and leave me alone_ ’ comment stuck inside his throat. She looks like she’s on a warpath and Changmin thinks he can make an educated guess of her current target.

He opens his mouth, doesn’t really know what to say, but she beats him to it.

“Yunho thinks you’re avoiding him because he’s been raped.”

It’s a good thing no one’s around at this time of the day to overhear her. Changmin gestures Boa inside, closes the door and locks it, thankful that Kyuhyun has an entire day of classes. “How did you know?”

Boa’s eyes are tiny pinpricks of storm. “Which one? About what happened to Yunho or your relationship with him?”

Changmin feels like things are moving too quickly for his understanding. The room’s claustrophobic, with the weight of her accusatory glare settling heavily in his chest. “We’re not in a relationship.”

“Of course that’s the thing you fixate on.” Her hands are balled into fists, but they stay at her side. It doesn’t lessen the impression that she would’ve liked nothing more than to deck him right then and there. “You’re a fucking asshole, yeah? If you’re ditching him, at least tell it to his face. Don’t leave him hanging and blaming himself for your dick move.”

Changmin drags a hand over his face and sighs. He feels a few decades older in a matter of minutes. He remembers her presence at Kangta’s place and he should’ve known there’s a reason she looked so furious back then. “How did you find out it’s him? In the video?”

“We’re best friends; of course he’d tell me.” A vicious voice at the back of Changmin’s head points that if Boa is such a good friend, she would’ve known about the nightmares as well. It’s petty as fuck and he’s not about to pick fights, so Changmin slams his mouth shut and waits for Boa to continue. “Look. I wouldn’t be here if it’s not for Yunho. You should stop avoiding him.”

“I’m not avoiding him.”

“Then what is it?” She still looks like she’s about to rip him a new asshole, but now there’s also confusion bleeding into that rage. He supposes that’s an improvement. Or not, considering what she wants to know. “He needs all the support he can get right now. And for whatever reason, you’re important to him.”

“You don’t understand—”

“I don’t give a shit if you think rape victims are beneath your dumbass philandering ways, but Yunho should know it’s not his fault. He’s convinced he’s not good enough for you or anyone else after what those shitstains did to him.”

Changmin shakes his head, throat constricting as he remembers the way Yunho curled up against him. Bent in all the wrong places, like a broken mannequin. “It’s not him, okay? It’s me. I can’t—”

Her expression darkens. She exhales noisily and shoves Changmin out of the way, heads straight for the door. “You know what? Fuck this. I shouldn’t have come here. You obviously don’t give a shit about Yunho—”

“I’m the reason he got raped!” Changmin drops onto the bed, face in hands. What little fight he has left drains out of him. “It’s my fault.”

“What d’you mean?” The tremor in Boa’s voice is too palpable to ignore. “Shim, what—”

“They overhead me at the club, alright?” Each word feels like a knife slicing through his throat and he forces them out, doesn’t matter how much it hurts. “Yunho and I… we had some fun the night you saw me, but you know that already. I went back to the guys and they asked if he’s… any good. I swear, it’s just a joke—”

Boa’s voice is barely above a whisper, glacial. “What did you tell them?”

Changmin digs knuckles into his eyes as the world crumbles around him. “That he’s easy.”

He doesn’t even notice Boa moving until she’s right in front of him and the force of her slap snaps his head to the side, makes him bite the inside of his mouth. The taste of copper floods the inner lining of Changmin’s teeth and he tongues at the cut, winces when it stings. He figures he deserves that. And more. The expression on her face screams murder.

“You’re a part of this?!”

“I’m not! Someone overheard what I said and things just— just snowballed from there.” The truth tastes even worse than the blood he swallows. “I never meant for Yunho to get hurt. You have to believe me. I’d kill those guys in a heartbeat if I knew.”

Boa stares at him for a few seconds before she says, “Tell him everything.”

“I can’t— I’m gonna hurt him again.”

She makes a frustrated noise and Changmin flinches back, expects to get slapped again. She refrains and her self-control is admirable, near saintly. He would’ve done a lot more damage if he’s in her place. She jabs one very sharp finger into his chest to emphasise each word. “This. Is. Not. About. You.”

Changmin winces.

“What you did was monumentally stupid and I’m gonna kick your ass for that later.” She’s standing over him, tiny and angry, and Changmin thinks Yunho’s lucky to have someone like Boa around to look after him. Especially since she wouldn’t fuck him over. “But you’re not doing anyone a favour by running away like a fucking coward. Yunho deserves the truth. Whether he forgives you or not, that’s his decision to make. Not yours.” She pauses to level a flat stare on him. “And if you don’t tell him, I will.”

With that threat closing around Changmin’s neck like a noose, Boa lets herself out. The room is much too quiet once she’s no longer there and Changmin feels like he’s just been hit by a sledgehammer. He decides to go on a run, just to clear his head. It's something he hasn't done for a while, but it definitely beats staying inside and going stir crazy from indecision. Fresh air does him little good and he makes the mistake of looking out to the side instead of keeping his eyes ahead, because there's Yunho walking through the winding cobblestone path dissecting the park. Changmin trips over something, a pothole maybe, and goes sprawling, smacking the ground hard at his speed. He has to take a second to get his breath back and then he slowly pulls himself to his knees. He's a mess and he's never felt it any more strongly than here, with gravel cutting into his kneecaps and struggling to get air into his lungs while Yunho gets further and further away.

He gets to his feet and starts running again, this time in Yunho’s direction.

When Changmin taps his back, Yunho makes a sharp, surprised noise and almost stumbles if not for Changmin’s hand on his forearm.

They end up staring at each other, the silence between them loud and disconcerting.

“Changmin?” Yunho’s shoulders are made of stiff, unyielding lines and the smudges under his eyes are darker, deeper. He shrugs Changmin off, takes a step away as if scalded. “What do you want?”

The words rail though Changmin like a runaway train. “I think we need to talk," he says, surprised at how steady his voice is. Yunho's fingers dig into the strap of his bag and Changmin realises he should've started with an apology. He takes off his cap and pushes his hair back, damp with sweat. "Please, hyung."

Yunho’s brows furrow. Changmin expects a refusal but instead, he sighs and says, "My shift's until 8."

Changmin licks his lips, relief coursing through his veins. He feels looser, somehow, like some unseen knots in his body have unwound. "Can I come over around 9?"

"Yeah.” Yunho’s fingers curl tighter around the strap. “Okay."

"Okay." There are questions Changmin wants to ask. Like _how have you been_ and _are you mad at me_ and maybe _hyung, what would you say if I tell you I love you_. But Yunho turns away and Changmin’s on borrowed time, stutters out a, "I'll see you later, hyung!"

Yunho raises a hand, but doesn’t look back.

The rest of the day is a blur. He staggers back to his room, forgets all about his torn knee until he sees the streaks of blood he’s inadvertently left on his bedsheet from the cut. It stings when he showers and he manages to find the First Aid Kit under Kyuhyun’s table, although the antiseptic looks way past expiry date. There are also more condoms than plasters inside it, which he notes for future reference. He doesn’t think he can work on his essay with all the white noise in his head, so he sets his alarm for eight and crashes. Doesn’t even notice his roommate coming back or asking him if he’d like to get dinner. He stirs at the first beep of alarm, finds the note Kyuhyun left and slips into a fresh change of clothes after washing his face. Everything perfunctory.

It’s only when he’s standing in front of Yunho’s door that Changmin feels a rush of anxiety. And panic.

He stares at the closed door, raises a hand to knock and very nearly jumps when the door swings open before he makes contact.

Boa blinks up at him.

Changmin lowers his hand and frowns.

“Oh. It’s you.” She seems to consider the situation, arrives at some kind of a conclusion and shoves an overnight bag into Changmin’s arms. She turns to lock the door, before nodding at him like he’s capable of translating whatever telepathic message she’s just communicated. He stays rooted to the floor, doesn’t understand what the hell is going on. And why Boa is here, instead of Yunho. “C’mon, you might as well come too. Were you supposed to see Yunho tonight?”

“Yea— wait, what?” He swings the bag over his shoulder and stumbles after her, towards the end of the hallway. For someone with short legs, she’s really quick. “Where are we going?”

“Hospital.” Boa slows when going down the stairs, ponytail swinging behind her. “He fainted at work. They’re putting him under observation for now.”

The rush of blood to his ears blots out everything else. There’s a cab waiting for them downstairs and he slides inside after Boa, heart hammering against his ribcage. A thousand different scenarios flit through his head and he tries to single out the pivotal moment where everything starts to tilt out of control, careening straight into a fucking chasm. He thinks about how frail Yunho looked in the park and wonders if he should’ve done something different, if he should’ve said something more. Agonising over a multitude of _what if_ s and ugly suppositions doesn’t make things better, the rational part of him points out, but Changmin grapples with a fresh slew of guilt and self-loathing. He’s getting really good at that lately.

They’re deposited near the emergency entrance and he waits for Boa to take the lead again. She spares him a glance and whatever she sees makes her expression soften into almost-pity.

“He’ll be okay.” She holds a hand out for the bag. “He looks a fright, though. Hit his face going down. It’s a miracle he didn’t break anything.”

That’s the least reassuring thing Changmin’s heard all day.

She makes him wait once they get to Yunho’s room. Changmin hates hospital. The plastic chairs lining the floor aren't meant to be comfortable and he straightens when he feels his legs falling asleep. The vending machine coffee tastes like shit and he drinks enough to start seeing blurry lines when Boa finally tells him to see Yunho. Who looks fragile and shattered, a shell of what was once so lively and radiant. There's a chair beside the bed, close to an arm hooked to an IV. Changmin takes the seat and the room narrows into a spectrum of colours on Yunho's face. The bruises are just starting to darken, blooming in macabre petals along one side of his face. There are butterfly bandages on his forehead, some near his right eye.

"Changminnie." He looks at Changmin with eyes dark and empty, and Changmin _hurts_. "What are you doing here?”

“They said you haven’t been eating. And sleeping.” Changmin thinks about taking Yunho’s hand in his own. He doesn’t. “Is that true?”

Yunho turns away, mouth pinched into an unhappy line. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You should take better care of yourself.” Changmin’s fingers curl into fists on his lap, an effort to keep him from reaching out. “Do you still… get those nightmares?”

The flicker of distress in Yunho’s eyes tells Changmin enough. He breathes shakily, chest falling and rising under the thin hospital gown. “You said you wanted to talk?”

The sudden change of topic catches Changmin unaware. His eyes flicker from the drawn paleness of Yunho’s skin to the IV line snaking around his wrist. “That can wait until you’re feeling better.”

“I’m okay, just tired. It’s not like I can do anything else.” The tone of his voice brooks no argument, even if it’s tempered by exhaustion. “Tell me.”

The room is quiet, the other beds around them empty and there’s a brittleness in Changmin’s chest, made of anxiety and sickness, but most of all, the urge to touch Yunho. He thinks about the too-short time they’ve spent together and wishes he can turn everything back. Rewind. Get himself a second chance to not fuck it up, then maybe they would be somewhere else right now. Smiling and laughing and being ridiculously, stupidly in love. Yunho wouldn’t look like he’s wasting away, like he’s about to break into little china pieces at the slightest touch. And he wouldn’t be expecting Changmin to slide a shard of that china piece between his ribs.

Changmin takes a deep breath.

“What happened to you—” Changmin swallows thickly, but decides to soldier on while he still has the courage to do so. “I said some things I shouldn’t. I wish I can take them back, hyung, I wish—”

Yunho cants his head to study Changmin when he trails off, forehead creased. "I don't understand."

They fall into silence again. It's not awkward, but it's less comfortable than what they're used to. The air feels thicker and it's harder to breathe. Changmin's afraid to fuck this up even more, afraid of how Yunho would react, but this is what he’s owed. This is why they’re both here, reduced to strangers sharing heavy silences. So he tells Yunho the truth. Every single thing, from the moment he answered Siwon’s question with stupid lies to finding out that those same lies had led to Yunho’s horrifying ordeal. The words are crowded together, stumbling out of his mouth in fragments. It’s a dreadful narration punctuated by apologies that ring hollow and meaningless inside the white-painted walls of the hospital room.

Changmin clears his throat and lifts his head to look at Yunho.

To find Yunho staring at him, with disbelief. And fear. Changmin’s never thought he’d see fear when Yunho looks at him and he feels like he’s just been punched in the solar plexus.

“Hyung—”

“Don’t— Just. Stop.” His eyes are a mirror of hurtful things that Changmin can’t even begin to fathom, but he does know he’s the reason they’re there. Maybe he’ll join the rank of ghosts in Yunho’s nightmares – an ugly, twisted thing. Greedy. As long as Yunho remembers him. “Go. I- I don’t want to see you right now.”

_That’s right. I deserve this_.

Changmin straightens, takes a few seconds to bow at Yunho before he heads for the door. He’s already pushing it open when he turns, seized by some kind of deep-seated madness that reminds him of those hopeless literary figures with nothing more to lose.

“I know this is too late, but I love you.” He nods, once. His throat is dry and he can’t look at Yunho, wouldn’t be able to handle another rejection. “Just thought you should know that.”

Changmin runs into Boa in the hospital corridor.

He tells her he’s leaving and she doesn’t ask why he’s crying.

Small mercies.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real talk, fam. this entire trainwreck runs on kudos and reviews. spare some, pls & tq.


	6. .06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter six aka known as changmin cannot catch a break. thanks for waiting for this update, considering i've been swamped with work rl and gets distracted by 9482924 other writing things. this chapter is dedicated to everyone who's been sending me threats. i feel the love, fam. 

 

There’s an odd sense of liberation that comes with telling the truth.

It’s like his head had been full of flapping wings, making so much noise that the rest of the world was sort of reduced to muted static that blocked out everything else. After his confession, Changmin feels hollowed out, lighter but emptier. The world takes on a mellower tinge and he moves like his joints are made of unravelling knots. Changmin steps into a bathroom to wash his face, the mirror staring back at him with bruised eyes and lips bitten raw, and he knows that heartbreaks aren’t supposed to be pretty. He hadn’t expected it to look like a horror movie.

The first time since a long while that he falls in love and it’s a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Changmin isn’t much of a romantic and he’s not prone to the theatrics that come with the territory, but it seems that all those years of taking things easy have finally caught up with him. And go spiralling out of control. The smartest way to go about this is to forget Yunho altogether. He’s apologised, said his piece and there’s nothing left waiting for him at the end of this road. Yunho will probably forgive him, has always been generous to a fault, but Changmin doesn’t think they’ll be able to go back to what they had before.

His fingers bite into the edge of the sink.

Those fuckers better be rotting in jail. Or somewhere worse.

Like the bottom of a river.

Changmin turns off the tap and pats his face dry, tries to feel more human and less like a giant bruise. It’s time to put his figurative house in order again. He’ll have to tell Kyuhyun the truth one of these days, preferably after ending his self-imposed exile – he realises with a pang that he misses hanging out with his friends, that entire pantheon of assholes. He’ll have to steer clear of bathroom trysts for a while and avoid lying through his teeth about someone’s sexual proclivities, but that’s entirely doable. It’s a harsh lesson well-learnt and Changmin is a quick student.

Because life goes on, with or without Yunho.

His reflection smiles bitterly back at him.

Boa is waiting outside the bathroom, much to his surprise.

“You okay?” He doesn’t expect the concern either, but she’s the one who dragged him here after all, so maybe she’s just making sure he’s not gonna walk into traffic or do something equally self-destructive. Changmin wishes she’d leave him alone so he can wallow in peace. “Yunho’s been sedated. Seems like what you told him was quite a blow.”

Changmin grimaces, worry eclipsing his initial urge to walk away. “He didn’t hurt himself?”

“No. It won’t be easy, but he’ll be okay.” Her confidence relieves and irks him in equal measure. She obviously has the utmost faith in Yunho, but Changmin knows she’s not here to extend pleasantries. And he’s about to be proven right as her expression hardens. “It’s good that you’re making amends, but you should keep your distance for a while. He’s still struggling and I don’t think your presence is going to make things easier.”

Changmin wants to disagree, just because of the way she said it. But he knows she’s not wrong and he swallows his protest. “I understand.”

Boa levels him this calculating look, like she doesn’t really believe him. He can’t blame her; he wouldn’t have trusted himself to stay away either. It’s hard enough to do it for the past two weeks and if she hadn’t confronted him, he probably would’ve caved in sooner rather than later and went to see Yunho anyway. Boa eventually nods and turns to walk away. He has to stop himself from drifting into that weird sad grieving place that’s been so familiar for the past weeks and turns the other way, towards the exit.

The sky is velvet-dark outside, the city too bright for any actual star.

Changmin wishes it’s raining, just so he can dramatically walk through the rain and maybe get struck by lightning and end up in the hospital, somewhere close to Yunho.

Knowing his current run of luck though, he might find himself in the morgue instead.

He sighs and starts his long walk home, determined to take that time to clear his head and maybe re-evaluate his options. It’s well past midnight when he arrives, never quite realised how far the hospital is and his legs are screaming in protest. Kyuhyun is already in bed, headphones curled around his neck and blue light from his screen illuminating his face. He looks up when Changmin staggers inside and frowns.

“You look like shit.”

Changmin sheds his hoodie and shirt and flops onto the bed, aching everywhere. “I feel like shit.”

Kyuhyun considers him for a few minutes, the glow from his screen making his expression a lot more sinister than it should. It’s unnerving to be at the end of that look, so Changmin throws an arm over his eyes to block it out. Maybe if he stays still enough, Kyuhyun would think he’d fallen asleep and therefore spare Changmin whatever diabolical plan churning to life inside his head. There’s some rustling going on from the other side of the room, muted footsteps telling him that Kyuhyun is now definitely doing something and the dread pooling inside Changmin’s stomach multiplies. A shove removes the arm over his eyes.

Changmin curses.

“We’re going out,” Kyuhyun announces, already dressed in jeans and a shirt that vaguely looks like Changmin’s. He’s staring down at his phone, typing furiously. “Get off your sorry ass, Shim.”

Changmin rolls to the other side, dragging the blanket along and squeezing his eyes shut.

Kyuhyun grabs one end of the blanket and tugs. Hard. “You’re fucking up the feng shui of this place with all this moping and negative energy. C’mon. We’re gonna exorcise the stupid out of you.”

Changmin doesn’t know when they start giving a fuck about feng shui, but it’s useless to argue when Kyuhyun’s hellbent on making him do something, so he just slinks out of bed in defeat. “This better be worth it.”

“We’ll get you strippers. Or hookers, but that might be going over-budget. Siwon-hyung’s already paying for booze so we’re gonna have to steal his credit card if you wanna get laid.”

Changmin shoves himself into a fresh sweater. His hair is a mess of curls and he tries to smother them down, before giving up. They walk cross campus to Hyukjae and Donghae’s place, one of those studio apartments big enough to house the entirety of the gang without collapsing under the sheer weight of their accumulated crazy. They also have a pretty chill landlord, so the possibility of having cops called on them is close to nil. Donghae opens the door for them, smile as blinding as ever and Kyuhyun pushes Changmin inside before he can escape. There are no strippers or hookers, thankfully, but there’s a fuckload of alcohol, which Hyukjae assures them is actually a unit of measurement in situations like this. Minho and Shindong are setting up a karaoke machine, as Ryeowook argues over the choice of music with an unusually belligerent Yesung.  

For an impromptu drinking party conjured up to celebrate his emotional breakdown, an unexpectedly large number of people have turned up.

Changmin is almost touched.

And then remembers that most of them are probably only here for the free booze.

He’s plied with drinks as soon as he takes off his shoes, which is better than being asked about his non-existent girlfriend and why he’s taking this particular break-up catastrophically bad. Lying to them is a daunting task that requires too much energy, so he considers that a blessing. He finds a spot in the couch that looks relatively clean and starts on getting smashed as quickly as possible. His plan to drink his body weight in cheap alcohol is A Bad Idea, but it’s not like he’s brought here to talk about his feelings.   

“You need to cheer up,” Minho says, unhelpfully. He’s also slurring his words a little and Changmin has a sneaking suspicion that he’s already dipped into the hard stuff. “You’re always so sad nowadays.”

“I’m not sad,” Changmin grouses, taking a swig from his beer. “I’ve just been… preoccupied.”

Minho scoots closer to pat Changmin’s cheek tenderly. His eyes are glazing over. “It’s okay to get dumped, hyung. I’m sure you’ll find other girls who like all the nasty stuff you do.”

Changmin would very much like to nail Kyuhyun’s head with his beer bottle. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, kid.”

The sloppy, pleased grin he gets in return is kind of heart-warming and he slings an arm around Minho’s shoulder, grateful for a respite from the self-loathing that’s pretty much been his default mood recently. The party goes full-tilt once someone starts mixing bastardised cocktails, forgoing actual measures and just pouring booze and whatever juice and soda available into glasses. There are chicken wings and pizza involved at one point; Changmin’s too busy downing shots to think about lining his stomach with actual food. He wakes up to find Minho draped all over him, passed out and drooling copiously. Kyuhyun is sprawled on the floor, right next to the tangled limbs of their hosts and a few other bodies. The sizzling sound and smell of something frying up tells him that breakfast is well on its way. He hopes it’s Siwon because he’s the only one Changmin trusts not to give them food poisoning.

He’s about to get up and help when he hears Heechul’s voice.

“—told him to take it easy, but Boa said they’re already on the way back.” Changmin doesn’t remember him being here last night. He must’ve arrived late, after most of them were already blackout drunk. “That idiot’s worried about skipping too many classes.”

The concern underlining Siwon’s voice is palpable. “What was he warded for?”

Heechul goes quiet for a few seconds. “Dehydration.”

Changmin feels a childish sense of triumph to find that Siwon isn’t one of those who are privy of Yunho’s actual situation. Granted, he only knows because he’s the dumbass who half-caused the entire quandary, but that’s neither here nor there. A clatter of plates and the stove’s clicked off. “Someone’s looking out for him, right?”

“He’s living alone until Hojun gets back from sabbatical. And Boa’s heading off for her field research today, so this is just fucked up timing all over.”

Changmin frowns, itching to join the conversation. _Hojun? Who the fuck is Hojun_?

Siwon makes a quiet, thoughtful noise. “I’ve got an extra room. Yunho-hyung can stay at my place until he’s feeling better. Or until Hojun-hyung returns, whichever happens first.”

“I’ll tell him,” Heechul says and Changmin disagrees very loudly inside his head. “But he can be real stubborn, you know how it is.”

There’s a groan, Siwon’s, and they laugh at something Heechul says in return, utensils clinking against the plates. Changmin feels his stomach churn, mostly in worry. And envy. It’s fucking selfish, but the thought of someone else taking his place at Yunho’s side gives him massive heartburn. He cracks his eyes open to stare at the ceiling, another Bad Idea worming its way into his head. Boa would be the antithesis of happy if she finds out what he thinks of doing and he weighs the pros and cons of pissing her off even further. But it’s for Yunho’s sake and apparently he’s never made good decisions when it comes to Yunho so he decides to take ownership of his shit idea and runs away with it. The (very real) possibility of being murdered by Boa notwithstanding.

Minho mutters something incomprehensible and smears more drool onto Changmin’s shirt.

He pats Minho’s head, grossed out but still fond.

By the time Changmin manages to wake everyone up, Siwon and Heechul have already prepared enough pancakes and scrambled eggs to feed an entire army. The toasts are a bit on the charred side, but no one’s complaining because Heechul might skewer them with a fork. It’s happened before. Kyuhyun shambles into a chair next to Changmin’s and steals his coffee, and Changmin only lets him because he’s feeling a hell lot better (emotionally; physically, he’s 50/50 on surviving this hangover). Breakfast is relatively quiet and peaceful since most of them are still in liquid state and that affords Changmin an escape as soon as he drains his fifth cup of scalding hot coffee.

He has a lot of work to do and he’s gonna need all the chemical stimulants his body can handle to get started.

The thing is that Changmin’s always been good at strategizing. At figuring out how to make things work, quickly and efficiently when he has to. He’s not leadership material by choice, preferring to operate from the shadows like some kind of shady government agency, minus all the wet work involved. Finding out an approximation of Yunho’s schedule is a lot simpler than he anticipated. Minhwan’s friend is surprisingly easy to persuade, although Changmin suspects he’s not doing it out of the kindness of his heart and is most likely spurred by the opportunity to break into the university’s server for shit and giggles. He pulls up Yunho’s class schedule in five minutes flat and proceeds to find disturbing amount of dirt on their professors via interoffice memos.

Changmin will never be able to look at his Linguistics TA the same way again.

It’s all very Machiavellian and illegal as fuck, but the end justifies the means so he breezes through whatever moral roadblocks he has left with the ease of a seasoned criminal. Aside from classes, Yunho spends most of his free time at his part-time jobs, split between the ramen joint and a cafe downtown (he’d quit the bar, much to Changmin’s relief). After a few days of (mostly) harmless stalking, he has a general idea of Yunho’s daily routine and the people he meet on regular basis. Changmin’s pretty sure Yunho used to be more social, but it seems like he’s been keeping to himself since his release from the hospital.

It just serves to make Changmin even more adamant in carrying out his plan.

He buys Yunho’s favourite soups and stews. Fried, seasoned chicken. Different kinds of noodles. He clears his weekends to make some easy banchan and calls his mother for her recipes. The only hazard is enduring his sisters’ merciless teasing and deflecting their questions about his sudden interest in home cooking. He gets single servings for the takeout and places some bowls of instant rice together with carefully-packed banchan. And he leaves them at Yunho’s doorstep. _Like offerings on an altar_ , a voice in his head points out, because even his own mind is making fun of him nowadays. It does make him feel like some lovesick sod in one of those dramas Victoria likes so much, but Yunho needs to know that someone’s looking out for him.

That someone cares.

Changmin pens a note for each food package, because the entire thing is highly suspicious (when he thinks about it), and waits near the stairs for Yunho. The first time, he has to skulk around for more than half an hour until Yunho arrives, looking worn and exhausted. Changmin watches anxiously as Yunho looks at the paper bag with a puzzled frown on his face. The note makes the frown less severe and only when Yunho brings the bag in that Changmin lets out the breath he doesn't realise he's been holding. Practise makes perfect and he becomes better at gauging how long he has until Yunho gets home, basking in the warmth of knowing that Yunho has never rejected the food he brings.

His heart swells as he sees Yunho's cheeks slowly filling out, colours returning to his skin. 

It's been nearly two months and Changmin drops by at least four times a week. He goes over some of his course materials while he waits, since exams are coming up and he's not about to let his grades slip despite his current extracurricular commitment. Kyuhyun's also getting suspicious, but he tells his roommate that he's seeing a new girl and the relieved look on Kyuhyun's face is enough to make Changmin feels slightly guilty for lying. He also lied about Yunho before so technically, those two lies should cancel each other out. The season's already shifting, leaves turning into shades of brown and orange, and the air's getting crisp with the promise of a coming fall. Changmin carefully leaves the day's food in front of Yunho's door and goes to the stairs to huddle with his modules.

He’s so engrossed in a discourse on the history of the Korean alphabets that he doesn’t hear the sound of approaching footsteps. He jerks in surprise when Yunho says, “You should wear something thicker.”

Changmin marks the page and looks up at Yunho, haloed in the spill of faint fluorescent. He’s early – he shouldn’t be here for at least fifteen more minutes. “It’s not that cold.”

The look on Yunho’s face is tender enough that Changmin can wilfully mistake it as fondness. “Do you want to come in?”

Changmin’s heart leaps to his throat. He rises almost too quickly and nearly stumbles. “Yes, please.”

The living room is a lot neater than Changmin remembers: a new vase of something green and abundant sits next to the television and there are a few more books on the coffee table. The air smells sweet, faintly floral. Yunho drops his bag onto the couch and goes into the bedroom, presumably to change. Changmin hesitates for a half-second in the silence Yunho leaves behind, before he decides to take liberties. Yunho invited him in, after all. He places the still-warm container of japchae on the counter and fills a glass with water, waiting for Yunho to come out.

Yunho’s in a shirt and sweats when he does, fingers pulling at the long sleeves as he eyes Changmin. He notices the japchae and his mouth twists into a wry smile. “I can feed myself, you know.”

“That’s not what I heard.” It comes out sharper than intended. Yunho frowns and Changmin sighs, feels three decades older. “I’d just— rather not see you in the hospital again.”

Yunho rubs the back of his neck, eyes downcast and the furrow between his brows deepening. Hospital is an ugly word between them, a reminder of what Changmin had said and done. How he’s foisted his feelings onto someone unsuspecting and running off without even waiting for a reply. Which would most likely be a rejection, _but still._ It’s not the dumbest thing he’d done lately and it’s a track record he isn’t proud of. Changmin doesn’t know what Yunho is thinking about when he looks at him and frankly, he’s terrified of finding out. Especially when he senses that they’re still teetering on thin ice and one wrong step might plunge them both into the fucking depth.

“Your dinner’s getting cold,” Changmin says and pushes the container towards Yunho. It’s neutral ground. Safe. “You should eat.”

Yunho steps closer. Changmin suddenly feels a little sick with desire and he grips the counter to stop himself from reaching out. “And you?”

“I only bought enough for one.” The ‘ _wasn’t expecting to be invited in_ ’ part remains unspoken. Yunho’s mouth twitches and Changmin likes to think he’s holding back a grin. He doesn’t realise how tense he is until the grin does break through and his spine loosens with relief. “It’s okay. I’ll just grab something on the way back.”

Yunho tilts his head, considering. “Or we can share?”

Changmin’s throat goes dry. He nods. “Or we can share.”

They end up on either end of the couch, the japchae portioned off into two bowls and the television showing a rerun of the latest Running Man episode. Song Ji Hyo is in one of her usual turncoat roles and someone’s being chased around by Kim Jong Kook in an empty office building, knocking down chairs and storage cabinets. Yunho’s laughing at everything, eyes crinkled and cheeks flushed, and Changmin thinks this is okay, they’re gonna be okay. Maybe they’ll arrive at an approximation of what they had before, if he’s persistent enough. Changmin picks at the glass noodle and surreptitiously stares at Yunho, trying to decide if he should push it.

“I’ve known since the beginning.” Changmin startles. Yunho doesn’t look at him and his voice is quiet, half-drowned by the noise from the television. “The food. I knew it’s you.”

“Huh?”

Yunho turns towards Changmin, lips hitched into a soft, teasing smile. “I could see you hiding in the stairs. You’re about the size of a baby giraffe, you know.”

Changmin slaps a hand over his face, cheeks heating up from sheer fucking mortification. All that sneaking about, thinking he’s being super subtle had been for naught. He mock pouts at Yunho and whines, “You could’ve said something!”

“But you were having so much fun, Changminnie.” The sparkle in those eyes makes Changmin’s heart soar, hopes for better things mounting in his chest. “I didn’t want to spoil it for you.”

He slings his hand on the back of the couch. If he scoots closer, maybe a couple of inches, he’d be able to touch the back of Yunho’s neck. “You’re so mean, hyung.”

Yunho opens his mouth to retort but, perhaps noticing their proximity for the first time, starts turning a fetching shade of pink instead. They stare at each other, the air weighing heavy all of a sudden as the rest of the world fades into the background. Changmin’s eyes drop to Yunho’s lips, a deliberate move that Yunho wouldn’t miss. Delight curls around the base of his spine when Yunho’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. Changmin remembers how good those lips had tasted and delight careens sharply into lust, into visceral hunger. He shifts forward and is further encouraged when Yunho doesn’t move away, stays rooted in that same spot as if he’s been waiting for Changmin all this time.

Changmin's heart is about to crawl up his throat.

And because his life is a fucking tragedy, that’s when the doorbell chimes.

The moment breaks into fragments, the world rushing into focus once again as Yunho blinks, looks away from Changmin. He uncurls hurriedly from the couch to get to the door, face and neck prettily flushed. He’s all soft, languid lines and Changmin cranes his neck to watch, eyes dropping to his ass almost instinctively. It’s been ages since he last got laid and Changmin misses that spectacular ass.

The delight in Yunho’s voice, however, yanks him straight out of that particular headspace.

“Hojun-hyung!”

Changmin frowns at nothing in particular and thinks, _well shit_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your kudos and reviews keep me warm at night, as the unearthly chill from the spectre of my long dead twin claws at my bedroom door, wailing for me to let him in.


End file.
